Starfall
by SoaringSilverWing
Summary: It's not when the sun sets or the moon dips that he worries for Hijikata, it's when the stars in his eyes fall to pieces and there's barely anything left of the man he's come to know. Somehow it's easier to open up to people who reflect you, but Gintoki thinks Hijikata is so much better and the fact of the matter is, Hijikata thinks Gintoki is better too.
1. Wavering

Wavering  
Sakata Gintoki/Hijikata Toshiro

It's somewhere between nightfall and dawn when he first hears it; he's drunk off his ringer, nearly wasted, fully ready to throw up and pass out in the garbage somewhere on the streets. Sougo is awfully quiet, though him joining the natural perm for a drink was a normal occurrence, and this is what prompts him to pipe up above his heaving hiccups and garbled thoughts, "Soichiro-kun, what's wrong with you? Don't tell me that mayora bastard-"  
"Its Sougo, and he's still alive", Sougo sipped his drink, and the words didn't hold the normal resent when he stated the fact.  
"Okay, so I see why you're grumbling, but honestly I'd be surprised if he let his guard slip for even half a second considering he looks like he's perpetually got a stick up his ass. Speaking of which, does he? I bet when he's relieving himself he reads the weirdest-"

"He's never done that", is the simple, curt reply that cuts him off and sobers him up just the little bit enough to push himself up and ponder if Sougo meant his vice commander had never done the deed or never relieved himself, the latter more ridiculous sounding. He couldn't, for the life of him, know what Sougo could possibly mean so he leaned against his hand and asked, "Never done what, Soichiro-kun?"  
Sougo looks so sober it's ridiculous, his hair is messier and tousled and his uniform sloppily put on, it's then that he notices the red outlines of tears. He almost dismissed his question as a wasted effort but the answer piped up softly, "He's never pleasured himself or let anybody else pleasure him. And it's Sougo not Soichiro."

Gintoki had never heard something so ridiculous in his entire life, honestly that V-bangs bastard was around the same age as him and had _never_ done a perverted thing in his life? He scoffed in a mixture of jealousy and pity and downed the rest of his drink before wandering out of the bar, forgetting he had been talking to Sougo at all while still being haunted by the blotched paths of skin where his tears and clumped. But why on earth had the sadist been crying at all? Because of the Mayora? Because the Mayora had never done anything sexual? Why would _Sougo_ of all people care at all about that?

It's only when he wakes up in Shinpachi's house with a massive hangover and a gorilla muttering from under the floorboards telling him yesterday was Okita Mitsuba's death anniversary that he finally understands why Sougo was crying and defending Hijikata. The guy might've been an asshole, but Sougo couldn't hate him with the conviction he should have, only because he made practical decisions and because he hadn't loved a single person before or since, and didn't give a single person what his sister never had.

-

It's noon on a Thursday when he notices for the first time. He's strolling down the streets towards the Yorozuya having just finished a full size parfait and bailing out of paying for it by dumping the cup on Katsura with a faint, "We war buddies gotta stick together Zura." No doubt the long haired bastard was broke too, but the day was so warm and the streets so pleasant that he couldn't care less how Katsura would pay. He spots Hijikata in the shop that they both frequent, and a morbid curiosity brings him through the entrance chanting, "The usual for me!"  
He takes the seat next to Hijikata and smiles in a ridiculously forced way, earning a scoff. But that's it. Gintoki isn't hit, yelled at, kicked, or even glared at. "Did you finally get into anger management Oogushi-kun?" He prompts, when the owner of the shop put down his Uji Gintoki-don. Hijikata doesn't look up, eyes fixated on the rice in front of him and it's then that the silver-haired man notices that there isn't a single speck of mayonnaise. Nothing. Absolutely _none_.

His eyes widen and he looks up at blank, empty blue eyes. Gintoki had unfortunately been around the Mayora so long that he knew the bastard's kaleidoscope blue eyes better than he knew the stories of his JUMP, which was ridiculous in itself but which also led to him actually noticing that these were the eyes of a stranger. "Oi, Oogushi-kun, don't ignore somebody when they're talking to you", he floundered with the words, trying to sound indifferent but he couldn't help the panic that rose to his throat. A metal lighter flicked in his hand and that's when the panic set in fully, clenching at Gintoki's chest like barbed chains. Still he received no response, only the silent clicking of the wooden chopsticks as Hijikata ate flavoured rice quietly. Gintoki was gripping the table so hard his knuckles had turned white and for the love of him he couldn't understand why he was getting this worked up. Was it because Hijikata was ridiculously pure? Did he not want to see him break? Was he afraid?

Like a ton of bricks, suddenly he knew. It was because those eyes were the ones he had procured in the fucking _war_ , surrounded by corpses as company and drenched in blood and sweat. The eyes of a mindless killer, a soulless demon, nothing but a _monster_. Anxiety swelled through his veins, burning his skin and leaving tingles of fire everywhere because no, Hijikata fucking _Toshiro_ was not supposed to have eyes like that.  
Hijikata's eyes were meant to be blazoned with anger and a tinge of fondness, sometimes embarrassment and a satisfaction of his position in life, those eyes were blue and bright and full of life, drowning Gintoki in the sheer volume of the emotion behind them. Those eyes were beautiful and sparkling under the sheen of glares and authority, and why the hell was he looking like this now? Before Gintoki could register, his hands gripped heavily, almost desperate onto the uniform collar of the man beside him, and pulled him close enough to feel the other's breath against his lips.

He knew his eyes were gripped in a swirling pit of panic and he was shivering, clutching onto the black fabric like a lifeline. Yet he still wasn't pushed away, wasn't punched in the face, didn't have to dodge a twisted sword. Hijikata's eyes remained blank, his body limp as it was yanked, not a trace of resistance on his face. Gintoki felt his heart stop when his lips parted in a small puff of breath, "...My name isn't what you called me." Is all he said, and Gintoki felt his lips quivering and something like daggers of cold fire pricking his eyes. But Hijikata spoke again, quietly, as if he hadn't the strength, "Who the hell is Oogushi?"  
Gintoki choked heavily on whatever was caught in his throat, and couldn't bring himself to care about the desperation in his voice, "Hijikata. Hijikata. Hijikata. God, please look at me!" And he swore to the heavens when his voice broke that if Hijikata would stop giving him that look, Gintoki would never call him Oogushi-kun again.

-

The warm air of Friday trickled through the window, dousing the night's cold and rousing what would've been a heavily-hungover Gintoki. But he had never gone to sleep at all, haunted by the last words he had heard from Hijikata that previous day, "...that's my name isn't it? Is it?"  
Gintoki had bolted after that, leaving his food untouched and a raging madness surging up in his veins, a bloodlust conquering him and demanding he found whoever or whatever had done this to Hijikata. So when the sun peeked at Edo, casting amber hues over the bleached buildings, he scrambled out of the curled up mess he had been and stuffed his feet in his boots, stopping momentarily to brush his teeth and use the bathroom, not that he had to considering he hadn't eaten a damned thing since that parfait yesterday. Not even Otose was up and yelling for rent when he stumbled out of his house and down the stairs with no coordination whatsoever, and normally Gintoki would revel in the quietude. Not today.

It surprised even him that he knew today was the day on which Kondo, Sougo and Hijikata took their rounds together, and he knew the exact route so it wasn't even with a pachinko parlour in his mind that he dashed for the area, to hell with the consequences. It's still early, most shops closed and streets empty, when he finally crosses the trio. It suddenly occurs to him that he has not a shred of an excuse to be in this area at this time seeing these people; he's refusing to dub himself a stalker because he doesn't even know how he recalled Hijikata's patrol schedule, but goddammit that look is still in his eyes and Sougo isn't holding a cannon and Kondo isn't laughing maniacally with an arm around his shoulders talking about Tae. No, Sougo's the one with a hand on Hijikata's shoulder, not an explosive in sight, and Kondo's reserved smile doesn't glance at them heavily, he looks almost despondent. Hijikata walks on, hands stuffed in his pockets out of habit, an unlit cigarette between his teeth and pale lips.

Gintoki's frozen, and has no logical term for the relentless clawing he's feeling in his chest, or the burning lava that was his throat, and noted that something was caught in his throat again. "Fancy meeting you here, Yorozuya", Kondo lets out, calm and quiet, breaking the silence of the morning. Sougo gently pushes Hijikata behind him with one protective arm, glaring at the Yorozuya like a fire-spitting beast from the seventh level of hell. Gintoki stares quietly when Hijikata says nothing, head hanging and eyes almost shadowed, but he can still see the complete lifelessness in them where stars were meant to swirl. "What do you want, Danna?" Is what prompts him from his rising panic, and he realises he hasn't moved, not said a single word to acknowledge Kondo, unknowingly giving away that he had come here knowing they would be here. Red eyes widen with fear and his whole being screaming _'No'_ when Hijikata lifts his head, the ghost of a smile on lips that allowed tobacco to fall out without a seeming care in the world, and mumbles, " _Gintoki_ " like it's a prayer.

It's then that he realises he's wanted a hundred and more times to hear that voice say his name, but not once like this. Not like this.  
In a flash, Sougo's panicked gaze looks at his superior, uncharacteristic worry flashing through his eyes as he rests shaking fingers on the taller man's shoulders briefly before anger twists his frown into a snarl and he's lunging at Gintoki with the rage of a demon who'd been released after a thousand years. Gintoki's back slams against the wall, and his legs are still shaking madly so he's glad for the support, and Sougo's yanked the collar of his black leather and part of the half drawn on yukata. "You bastard, what did you do to him?!" Is the deep growling yell that emanates from the normally more docile boy who delivered threats with a smile from the land of sadists. Gintoki can't answer, the words are caught in his mouth and Kondo's eyes are shaded, his smile has dropped. He hadnt done a single thing to warranty Hijikata turning into this, but the thought it might have been his fault turns his insides to ash still cracking away in the wind.

A shorter figure with smooth black hair curling at his nape runs towards them, specifically the vice commander, and Sougo is away from Gintoki and in front of Hijikata like a protective best friend and okay when did that happen? What's even more ridiculous is that Gintoki is standing next to him, body having moved by itself. Kondo pipes up softly when Yamazaki stops short, "Toshi? It's Zaki, you know, Yamazaki?"  
"Sagaru?" Is the response, followed by a stream of orders which means he can still do his job but Yamazaki looks petrified, horrified beyond belief, and like he's dying right there. Kondo is breathing in almost sighs and Sougo draws in a breath sharply. Immediately he knows it's because the Vice Commander had never once called Yamazaki by his name. Yamazaki looks like he's going to faint, and in a last ditch effort calls out, "Vice-Commander, I was out playing badminton all day yesterday! I'm sorry!" And that's the heaviest he can give, knowing if he was chased and beaten to death it would be worth it, but he wasn't. "That's alright, Sagaru", comes the muted response. Sougo chokes.

"Hijikata-san-!" Sougo's looking at him like a lost little brother, eyes frazzled with too many things and Gintoki knows his heart slows. Kondo motions, and Yamazaki is running, not before the flash of tears catches the light of the sun. "Sougo, aren't we on patrol?" And just like that, they're gone, leaving Gintoki too stunned to even move.

It's on a Friday that Gintoki realises he cares more than he's admitting and has observed more than he's comfortable with about the Vice-Commander.

-

It slams against Hijikata too hard and too heavily on Mitsuba's birthday that he's been trying too much for people who care practically nil. He's repairing his door when his hand slips and the hammer falls to the ground with a clatter, he doesn't dodge Sougo's missile and is in the hospital for a week.

He's tired, exhausted both mentally and physically by people and work and just the sheer amount he did to get people to respect him instead of tossing him around like a ragdoll that had been around for too long. It starts with his voice failing, and his joints hurting with a dull pain like there was wax under his skin. His legs gave out, then his arms felt heavier, till he was entirely lead weight and dying on his feet. He had failed. Failed to keep his promise to Mitsuba to light up the world, failed to keep people he cared for by his side, failed to gain enough respect, failed to become someone worthy of Edo. The streets and food lost meaning; everything tasted like dry sponge so he didn't even bother himself to buy mayonnaise, and metal lighters were smaller so he bought one.

Placing a cigarette between his lips became habit, he rarely ever lit one after that week, and everything seemed to turn monochrome. It just wasn't worth trying anymore. At first he wanted to explode in rage, he wanted to burn everything down and go on a killing rampage, but not a single thing could be done. So he gave up, slowly, surely, piece by piece discarding the image he had built, giving orders only through memory of how they should be. If Sougo wanted to kill him at this moment, not a single protest would have been voiced and not a single muscle tensed to jump away. He doesn't bother to cut his hair even when the strands are in his face more than usual or the ends brush his nape, and he doesn't bother to yell "Seppuku!" At everyone who disobeyed orders. For a reason he couldn't place however, they all seemed to follow orders quickly and efficiently the minute the words left his lips. Maybe it was just the sheer emptiness in his soul but his functionality was on autopilot and his character discarded like a cloak.

His door rattled as Sougo entered the room, Kondo trailing and a silence between them so thick it felt weighted, "Hijikata-san?" He tries to reply with a snark or a glare or a puff off smoke but he can't bring his hands to the lighter, he really tries but his lips don't move. His chin dips in a nod and that's the most he can do, expecting and slightly even hoping he gets a grenade to the face, but nothing hits him. Hijikata's surroundings don't quite register besides that he knows this is his room and vaguely where everything is, a huge fall from his knowing the exact position of every item in every place he was in. Sougo's sitting in front of him now, and Kondo is by his side. He can't comprehend why they don't get up and leave so he speaks, "...I finished the paperwork, Kondo-san, Sougo."

Sougo curses under his breath, tugs Hijikata's hair so he can look at his face, and then begins to shiver. Kondo doesn't move, his eyes are shaded and his mouth grim, and Hijikata briefly wonders why he isn't at the Shimura dojo. Maybe he wants an escort? "Kondo-san, we could accompany you to that Shimura dojo", is what he mutters softly, hardly caring that Kondo is actually his superior and should be doing his work. Sougo makes a sound, and he might have been crying if not for his dry cheeks. Was that a whimper? He doesn't get time to think about it because he's being pulled somewhere and suddenly there's black fabric in his face and two pairs of arms around him. The wretched cold is gone, it's not present inside this little haven of bodies that he realises are Sougo's and Kondo's and he breathes softly, the scent of detergent and gunpowder calming his senses even though Sougo's still shaking uncontrollably. Kondo's sobbing ceaselessly and the tears are dampening Hijikata's hair, but he can't bring himself to try to understand what's bothering them, and why they were coming to him for comfort. Still, their arms are oozing warmth that seeps through his skin and washes relief over his exhausted body. He's been overworking himself too much for too long.

Eventually however, he's let go of and a hand contracts on his shoulder briefly before the biting cold weaves it's frosty fingers through his skin again and he's unable to move enough to do more than glance as Kondo picks up the paperwork, clutching it tightly, before muttering, "Toshi, I'll take you up on offering to escort me to Otae-san's place." Hijikata's aware of what to do, he steels his legs before standing, a brief frown twisting his lips when his limbs shake slightly but neither of the others notice so he quietly clips on his sword, sliding it through the loop of his belt and dons the uniform jacket he had draped over the back of his chair. His legs carry him behind Kondo and even if they hadnt, Sougo's steering him with an arm on his shoulder as if he's a child. But he's doing his job so who's to care and what's to complain.

-

Shinpachi and Kagura are squabbling over what to make for dinner since neither would allow the boy's sister to cook a single thing in the house. The dojo is lively with their screaming and hitting and Otae's laughter, but Gintoki is quiet. They haven't noticed because he's been acting perfectly normal, and simply felt a few minutes silence while they argued was forgivable. Usually the silence drives a vice into his being and doesn't allow him so much as breath, thoughts and voices he'd already killed physically still haunting the plagued dreams of his half-dead mind. _Can a person be alive yet a corpse?_ He doesn't know, he hadn't gone to school very long. But this time his feverish mind grasps instead onto the alabaster contours of a certain dark-haired man's face and just how much more it hurt to see him now than any pain from the countless times he'd been injured before. He realises this is because he wouldn't take back a single action during any of those fights, in fact he would do it all again to protect all he had been at the time, but he would take back anything if he knew it were the cause for Hijikata's...whatever this was.

Gintoki can briefly relate it to his person at the time Kondo was to be beheaded for treason but even then he had rose to the jests Gintoki had sent and met with fervour every jaunt and jab, even then he had confusion surging through his eyes and a shiver to his soft hand and his listless frown when Gintoki had taken that punch. Hijikata had listened wide-eyed when Gintoki told him so easily, so silently of his past and his choices and it surprised even himself because that was something not even Otose and the other two Yorozuya knew, hell not even Katsura knew the exact emotion because they hadn't seen his eyes like Hijikata had, and he didn't even look disapproving or scornful, he looked like he finally pieced something that had been evading his grasp so long since their first rooftop encounter and more than anything he looked like he _understood_ , which scared Gintoki to the bone.

But this time there was no life in him, he walked as much of a corpse as Gintoki, yet was blameless of any fault that had been thrust upon him to make him like this. His form of self-loathing was denying himself anything he wanted, condiments, tobacco, even the leeway towards treatment of subordinates his position as Vice Commander allowed. It wasn't quite the same as Gintoki's throwing away any fortune of penny that came his way or drinking himself nearly to death, laying in alleyways among the garbage as was his place and throwing up till his throat burned from whatever he had consumed, yet it wasn't quite different. A soft sigh escapes him, he's spent a lonely, alcohol-deprived month full of sleepless nights and restless days trying to place exactly why he was so worried about someone who had seemed so trivial. But he knows that's not the case, he knows his eyes flickered recognition since the day he saw Hijikata first, and he knows over the long, long years he's known the bastard that he's slowly started becoming attached.

Indifference in his body turned to what he assumed was repulsion but really was just uncalled for affection and since that he'd come to terms with that fact, he was openly able to exhibit that his words were merely a friendly form of playful because he enjoyed what they had, and he enjoyed that Hijikata knew this and yet matched every mock-disgusted word with his own. He enjoyed that they could drop that and knew fully that both would stand together till hell's gate, and most of all enjoyed the silent moments when he spoke of his past in bars and road-side shops, and during which Hijikata was so so accepting and honest and welcoming, it brought a warmth to him that no evanescent liquid ever could. It's the fact that it's taken a month for the smouldering in his blood to come to glowing embers in the dawn that sets his entire soul on flames faster than if it had been doused in gasoline when Hijikata appears at the dojo doorstep.

Sougo growls and steps in front of him again, protectively, possessively, and Gintoki finds himself glaring because he believes that's far too unfair since Sougo spent practically every day he had known Hijikata trying to kill him; but to be fair after he had seen the fierce loyalty Sougo had shown when he declared he wouldn't move an inch until Hijikata asked it of him, even to rescue Kondo who both held in such high regard, Gintoki couldn't say he didn't expect this reaction. Still he glared, ignoring his mind protesting telling him Sougo had known Hijikata since he was a brat and Hijikata a teenager. The reason of them being here was obviously Kondo, but the gorilla didn't look the least bit interested in Tae at the minute, and he was at the front door respectably standing five feet from her and she was stunned. "Kondo-san, Hijikata-san, Okita-kun! Would you like to come in for some tea?" And neither Sougo nor Hijikata spoke, but Kondo's smile didn't quite reach his eyes when he said, "Thank you, I apologise for the intrusion."

The three entered the compound, past Gintoki's chittering teeth and the heavy chill that washed over him as Hijikata passed. This time there wasn't even a cigarette in his mouth, and Gintoki's soft curse went thankfully unheard. "Gin-chan who's th- **What's the sadist doing here?!** " Kagura yelled, oblivious to the situation and lunged at him with her umbrella. Mistaking it as towards Hijikata, Sougo drew his sword, eyes flashing a raging bloody threat and countered. Gintoki's body moved on its own once more, drawing Hijikata's body to his own with a hand on his torso pulling his back to Gintoki's front, bokutō drawn in front of the other's body and eyes blazed in panic. But it was Kagura and she was going for Sougo and now she was dropping her umbrella and asking in a worried voice, "Gin-chan?" Echoed by the same from Shinpachi and Tae.

His nose and lips briefly registered that Hijikata's hair smelled and tasted insanely nice, like cherry blossoms and menthol as a shampoo, but he sputtered for an explanation as to why he did that and stepped away, dropping his weapon and eyes widening. But somehow both Shinpachi and Tae seemed to understand he couldn't explain it, and a glance to Kagura told her not to question the matter so she kept her mouth closed, even Kondo offered a spark of gratitude from his eyes. But Sougo lost it, dropping his sword and punching Gintoki across the face faster than likely even he could comprehend, and Gintoki registered that the panic across his eyes was an angered, blind rage of a similar feeling to the one he himself felt. "Don't you dare touch him", came the venomous words and he felt himself lurch, but pale fingers touched Sougo's shoulder, "Sougo, leave him be, I doubt he understood his movement."

But _oh God_ he did understand, he knew the reeking protective possessiveness he felt was even more explosive than Sougo's and he was containing it, he knew exactly what that was and he wasn't acknowledging it just yet. Still, Sougo was convinced, worried and anxious gaze turning to his superior and hands unclamping from Gintoki's clothes as he tried to form words, managing, "But Hijikata-san-!" And Hijikata offered a faint smile that looked so broken and so misplaced that Sougo grabbed onto Hijikata's jacket and pulled till they were close enough to be embracing but weren't quite. The same pale fingers patted Sougo's light coloured hair and Gintoki felt a pang somewhere he couldn't place. The younger boy breathed deeply then strutted forward behind Kondo who had left with the other three, but not before he had tried to steer Hijikata with his hand on the other's shoulder and received a brief shift of muscle in response, which was enough for him to leave with an agitated glare.

Fingers touched his cheek absentmindedly and Hijikata's warm breath hit his lips, smelling like cold butterscotch and vanilla essence, and his voice held none of its usual feel when he murmured to the wind, "I remember when you let me punch you. You shouldn't have." And Gintoki smiled as softly and sweetly as possible for him, and wished he didn't smell like strawberry milk cartons, "I would do it again, Hijikata-kun." Because he couldn't bring himself to say 'Oogushi-kun' again as if Hijikata wasn't worth remembering. The man's smile melted away, mouth dropping into a line that was shivering downwards and a confused voice let out a stream of shaking, broken words, " _Fucked up_ \- I couldn't- temper caught- tried for- for for Kondo-san- Yorozuya- I needed to- I shouldn't have- you can hit me- why- _why- Gintoki..._ " And Gintoki felt more volts of electricity shock him than should've left him alive but it all came from his pounding aching heart so there was no question, in fact this was proof, of just how alive he was.

The softened, urgent call of his name again caught him in a place where he wanted to both scream and cry, but could do neither and wouldn't have anyway. Hijikata's cold, trembling fingers dropped from his bruising cheek and shook in violent fists by his side that had more desire to drive his nails into his palm than to punch anyone but himself. Gintoki registers his arms winding around Hijikata's slim waist and pulling him closer before his mind can halt his movement. He's so sure Sougo will come to pull Hijikata away and punch him again but they're alone and Hijikata isn't moving more than his shivering and ragged breaths.

Then he stops and touches Gintoki's wrists, breathing calm and even and eyes almost shaded as before as if not a thing had happened. Gintoki moves wordlessly away, and walks behind Hijikata as he strides with purposeful ease to the sitting room where Kagura is hugging her knees and eating biscuits, Shinpachi is letting the steam from the tea fog his glasses, Otae is clutching the serving tray with white knuckles, Sougo is positioned in an impatient half-crouch with a hand on the hilt of his sword and Kondo is listlessly staring outside at the trees, sitting comfortably and unnaturally not stuffed in a closet or peeping from a tree. Everything looks so out of place and briefly he can't stand that this is because of Hijikata and briefly he wonders if he should hate him but then he notes that it's not _Hijikata's_ fault.

The man is trying his hardest given his state, doing his work and taking his patrols and escorting his superiors where-so-ever they desire to go, but that's what's utterly wrong. Not the doing in itself because Hijikata has always been perfection beyond belief but the lack of permanent furrow in his brows and deliberate weight in his steps carrying an air of superiority, without the blunt retorts and yelling at everyone who dared move a hair out of order in his breathing space, without the constant demands of _Seppuku for this_ or _disembowel yourself for that_ , without the ungodly mayonnaise stream he thrived in and the chain smoking disaster that his lungs were, Hijikata just wasn't himself. He wasn't doing a single thing morally or physically wrong but psychologically had thrown everyone around him into a disarray he couldn't have predicted and it just wasn't humane to believe that they all accept the lie of being alright because that lie was stiff.

Still it horrified Gintoki to see Shinpachi, Tae and Kagura return to laughing, screaming regularity after witnessing the soul-shattering unfamiliarity in the prussian of those eyes, he's disgusted by the thought that perhaps they hadn't noticed at all and he's out the door before they can talk of tagging along. He realises Hijikata knew the laughably small number of people who would chase behind his crumbling figure in the distance, and he realised the bastard knew exactly what those people would do. _Nothing._ Not a _single thing_ because they were all _cowards._


	2. Heightened

Heightened  
Sakata Gintoki/Hijikata Toshiro

Gintoki hates that it comes to pass, that it been months and that everyone has accepted it. He hates that Yamazaki has tear stains marring his face, hates that Sougo doesn't nap as much anymore, hates that Kondo isn't sleeping in Tae's attic or under floorboards, and hates that he can't bring himself to even call Hijikata 'Mayora bastard' anymore. Because where the hell was the mayonnaise? He never thought in his lifetime he would be craving to see something so revolting as the retch-worthy amounts of so-called 'universal condiment' on food in a bowl next to his, never thought he'd honestly crave anything not sweet enough to hasten his steps to the door of diabetes, but here it was. Gintoki also thought he had had enough smoke choked in his throat from when Takasugi had started, thought he didn't want a single speck more of the cancer-causing tar in his lungs but the need to smell menthol-scented tobacco became overwhelming.

Gintoki hates that he's still a wishy-washy natural-perm moron who wakes up too late, reads JUMP loyally and watches the weather lady while yelling at the younger occupants of the Yorozuya. He despises that the streets still are as lively as ever, his ever growing family showing their faces at his doorstep or across his path as often as before and despises himself for still being able to walk with his dumb dead-fish-eyed, bored-to-death expression. He hates that he doesn't get drunk enough to pass out in alleys anymore, paranoid that Hijikata will see him in that state again and realise every damn thing has gone back to normal when it _hasn't_ , it really hasn't for Gintoki and he's the only one who knows that. He's hates that he knows _exactly_ how to act and exactly how to behave, he hates that he goes through internal spontaneous combustion every time he sees Hijikata on the streets and hates that he never has it in him to stop the Vice Commander. He abhors how normal everything feels and this is now a routine.

Shinpachi and Kagura don't find him throwing up at three in the morning anymore, don't see him stumbling drunkenly at four through the doors, don't even see him drunk anymore at all because the minute his half-drunk mind thinks of straight black hair, he sobers faster than he can take another two shots. His sobriety is boundless with this topic, and he doesn't even want to drink anymore because _why should he be allowed the burn of alcohol when Hijikata isn't allowing himself the scorch of cigarettes?_  
It's too long since he's seen him around even on patrol and suddenly he's unreasonably fidgety, and clenches his jaw tighter when Tama mentions almost flippantly that Yamazaki had taken time off to visit Hijikata. _Visit._ In the _hospital._

Gintoki is out the door before Kagura is even conscious of anything but a toothbrush and running down the streets like his yukata was on fire. The woman at the counter doesn't even give him a once over, he doubts she even sees him when she looks because she's smiling so wide it's gruesome. She asks for the name of the patient and he almost gives his own but chokes out a, "Hijikata. Demon Vice Commander Hijikata Toshiro of the Shinsengumi." His mind chants the name in unmistakable orison with a fervour that sways his silver clamped apathy. An encroaching, supercilious voice runs a susurration of, _'But you were never the apathetic one.'_ And he knows that's not entirely true, he had just never been good at seeing and believing there were people who actually cared for him that weren't corpses on a battlefield or ecru locks matted with blood from his disturbingly sanguine katana.

It's not entirely true because Hijikata wasn't apathetic permanently either, there was a too-large range of things that ticked him off and people that got on his last nerve for him to actually allow himself the luxury of not caring even a smidge, but it's the work that lets him finally dissolve past the front to a state and position where he really, truly doesn't find it in him to care about anything as long as the work is done and the workstation is clean and orderly.  
Gintoki still chooses to believe he does not wish to see the carmine flashes, startlingly incandescent against cold zaffre pools and alabastrine skin. He's waiting in a full minute of disbelieving thoughts and thoughtless worry, and is practically at the elevator as soon as the lady's says, "Room 820." His leather boots pound against the sterile floors of the hospital, head whipping both directions scanning for the number. When he finds it, though the door looks exactly the same, he finds it feels different, like it's emanating a different aura and he knows he's convinced of this only because it's _Hijikata_ behind that door.

Throwing open the door isn't as easy as it had seemed in his mind, and after running like a madman through the streets of Edo he's standing outside the door with a shaky fist. Was the room's occupant even awake? Should he knock? What if he was changing? But they were both guys so that wouldn't matter very much...probably. Gintoki takes a deep breath to fill his collapsed lungs and reaches for the door, but it's jerked inwards away from his fingers and his widened eyes meet Sougo's heavy flow of tears and guilty cursing. "O-okita-kun I didn't think I would-"  
"Shut it", is forced out through clenched teeth and before he can make more than the beginning of a sound, he's gone.  
He knows not a single thing could be found out by standing there so he knocks twice and then twists the doorknob with a soft, "Sorry for the intrusion."

Hijikata's laying on his side with the blankets up to his shoulders, various gifts to his right that were undoubtedly from Kondo, Sougo and likely a few nurses who were instantly smitten.  
His tempestuous flood of questions sputters out in a mix of syllables, but Hijikata's empty, searching gaze just flicks up in acknowledgement. Gintoki could swear he saw a hint of understanding but maybe it was just his imagination. His garble of noises is cut short by Hijikata's shifting his hand and smoothening part of the sheets, which Gintoki takes as an inclination to drop himself next to those pale fingers and hang his head between his knees in wait. "Sougo got mad, he cut me up", Hijikata mutters and Gintoki turns his face a little hoping his eyes convey the message of _'Show me?'_  
Thankfully they do; he slides the sheets to his torso and pulls the hospital dress up to his chest, exposing the bandages around his midriff and near his hips. Gintoki's stunned into silence because all these months it's been _Sougo_ who ceaselessly protected Hijikata from anyone and everything, it's been Sougo who snarled at Gintoki and spat at Kagura, and more than anything he thought maybe Sougo understood _why._

But his own mind finds the stem Sougo climbed, a bottomless pit of worry and anxiety originating from an unknown source that they were not even close to understanding, let alone solving. He _knows_ that Sougo was driven into frustration and a ridiculous need to know, and this is why he cut Hijikata, in his own pathetic impatience. Now he both understands why Sougo was crying and wants to punch the bastard to a next life. Hijikata likely noticed his expression change from confusion to comprehending to anger, and icy fingers touch his wrist. He stops short, looking listlessly up as Hijikata pushes his shirt down and sits up, evidently it's too big because it almost slides off his shoulder. In some strange part of his mind he finds this alluring and there's a pressing need to touch the skin to see if it really was as soft as it looked, which likely it wasn't considering the incessant Shinsengumi training. "You can have your turn", comes the almost-whisper, and at the confused expression Gintoki makes he furthers, "You don't understand it either right? You can have your turn to take out your anger. I'm already in the hospital so an extension on my stay won't do too much harm as long as I finish paperwork for Kondo-sa-"

"Shut up", Gintoki's visibly trembling in anger, in absolute rage that Hijikata would even assume he would do such a thing. It rips at him even more that he actually _stops talking_ and moves to sink back to laying on his side against the soft bed, and this time he's fully conscious of his need to hold Hijikata, to confirm the moron is real, so he reaches out his hand and does his best to ignore the other's flinch, and he pulls Hijikata to his chest. Hijikata stiffens, and he can feel the hitch in breath against his neck, but after a soft huff against his skin, he lets himself be held. This is right, this is confirmation that Hijikata is alive and breathing, that his hair still smells like cherry blossoms and menthol, and that he's not a corpse at all. Gintoki knows by cradling his head and resting his hand on Hijikata's waist that he's so full of life, breath and scents and dips and curves, and a faint smile manages to touch his lips as he counters a, "I'll pass my turn to you Hijikata-kun, for not bringing you back to the world of the living yet." The only response he gets for a while is soft breathing and a placid lack of desire to move at all, which is alright with him because that's all he had wanted to say, wanted him to know he would definitely get him out of this and solely because he couldn't see someone he cared about fall into the crevice he'd been stuck in for the better part of a decade.

Various bottles and tablets lay on a metal tray in the corner of the room that Gintoki didn't look to before, and he realises Hijikata should be drugged senseless, but he really isn't. Or maybe he is because the muffled words cause his eyebrows to raise, "...come visit."  
Gintoki mumbles into his hair, "When?"  
"Anytime you're free."  
A flush of warmth rushes through his skin and he smiles again, tracing the characters of Hijikata's first name against the hospital dress. It occurs to him that maybe he isn't talking about just while he's in the hospital and if this could be used as an excuse to check on him more often then he was damn well going to take it, so he speaks again, "Where can I visit?"  
Hijikata seems to ponder over this, his lashes sliding against Gintoki's neck, a sensation he can't describe, only he knows it's pleasant. "Wherever you have time for", is the muted reply against his shoulder before Hijikata moves away enough to look at him. For a male, Hijikata had very pretty eyelashes. They were dark and long, casting spiked shadows over his cheeks and creating an almost ornamental frame for his crystalline eyes, and something wrenched in Gintoki's chest. He took this as an indicator to say, "Has anyone told you how pretty your eyelashes are, demon Vice commander-san?" His tone is light in a way that's both teasing and completely honest, and he doesn't understand the scarlet tinge that comes to Hijikata's cheeks when he shakes his head. Gintoki tightens his hold on the other's waist briefly then stands, knowing he couldn't get away longer than this if he were to explain where he had been to Shinpachi's damned mothering instinct. Hijikata's still looking at him, but he takes the standing as a departure and sinks back onto the pillow, eyes sliding halfway-shut and Gintoki's torn between running out the door and sitting against the headboard and having Hijikata fall asleep against his chest. He does neither.

"They really are beautiful, and they would be even without that stardust you've sprinkled across them", is what he opts to say, with all the sincerity he could muster. Hijikata's lip turns in the slightest smile, and Gintoki knows too well how physically impossible it was considering that smile was real, and it was for him. The best Gintoki had been able to do all these years is a wolfish grin, and the first time he'd smiled really was after a good ten years of his life had passed. After he'd fallen out of raw emotion, however, it had taken him nearly four years to smile, and it had been to Zura on the battlefield when they were both too close to dying to notice how lifeless they were living. Four _years_ , and it had taken Hijikata six months. It's then that he knows Hijikata is stronger than him, he's got control over this and he's doing his best to fight it back, no matter that nobody noticed he was. The door closes behind him with a magnetic click, and he wanders to the pachinko parlour and drops himself out front like he'd been there too long. It doesn't take more than ten minutes for Shinpachi to come screaming down the streets about not wasting their precious money on pachinko, Kagura tailing him humming strange music to Sadaharu.

He visits everyday, to say a few words and he's picked up the habit of dropping a card, but he never stays more than five minutes at the most. Hijikata doesn't comment on it, usually the most he gives as an acknowledgement is a low hum or a tightening of the blankets around him, or on the days he's doing paperwork a small pause in the scratching. The cards are generic, cheap fifty yen things he picks up from Hijikata's frequented cigarette shop, but he knows Hijikata recognises them and normally would kick him in the face for the one-line sappy messages like, 'The sun is waiting for your smile' or 'That laugh could cure plague.' As he is he notices his gifts, be it cards or cigarettes or little candy bags, are all kept away from the others, neatly arranged in a way that suggested they'd been glanced over more than once. It's on the day before Hijikata is released, the nurse at the front desk tells him about that when he should've heard it from the man himself, that Gintoki stays longer than he should.

On all the other days, he's glad Hijikata senses he isn't staying long and doesn't smooth the sheets for him to sit or gesture to the chair by his bed, he's grateful because he isn't sure he can outright refuse if he's asked to stay. This time Kagura and Shinpachi come with him, because he told them where he was going and Kagura wouldn't slip a chance to fight Sougo. Gintoki hasn't seen him since the day he first visited Hijikata, and doesn't ask where he is but knows he's around from the telltale gifts of chocolate shaped like grenades or when he leaves his stupid eye-mask on the desk. Shinpachi trails quietly behind him, and inspite the chatter Gintoki is keeping up with Kagura, he's easily able to see his automatic direction to the room, he knows Gintoki's been here before, and doesn't comment on it. The door's slightly open, and they stop short, freezing when they hear voices, "Hijikata-san, I didn't mean to-"  
"Go ahead Sougo, my sword's by the medicine tray if you need two."

And instantly Gintoki _knows_ what's going on, he knows Hijikata's offering to let Sougo lose his cool again and he knows with full conviction that he wasn't going to let it happen. He kicks open the door, startling Kagura into a short scream and strides across the room, eyes ablaze. He crouches by the bed and pulls Hijikata to his chest, bokutō pointed exactly at Sougo and offers his best snarl, "Who's the one who told me not to touch him, Soichiro-kun?"  
Hijikata blinks confusedly, he can feel it through his shirt, and then he moves away in silent admittance that he needs to sort this out with Sougo. Gintoki complies, standing at his side with his drawn weapon angled downwards. "I swear upon the kyokchu hatto that I will never let my temper hold my blade against my will to you", Sougo speaks, his voice deathly serious and the only sound after is the stunned shuffle of Shinpachi and Kagura entering the room. He glances briefly at Kondo, who's leaning against the window, and brings his attention to Hijikata, noticing the almost murky hue his eyes have taken as he replies a short, "Your words are testified against the kyokchu hatto with witness Commander Kondo Isao of the Shinsengumi."

Gintoki knows it's protocol for a superior to testify a sworn oath, knows the witness must be of a suitable rank, and knows at that moment Hijikata doesn't honestly care if Sougo would pull a stunt like this again. But Gintoki cares, and he's silently approving of the oath. He lets Sougo sit beside Hijikata and watches the latter ruffle his hair and nod in the only gesture of forgiveness he can put forth. Sougo stands, and goes to drop bait to anger Kagura, and she takes it as easily as always, though their arguing seems quieter. Or maybe that's because Gintoki isn't bothering to listen. Hijikata touches the sheets, and that's enough for the natural perm to perch himself behind where Hijikata is, and his arms wrap around Hijikata's torso and pull him to rest against his chest. He just hopes his yukata isn't too rough against Hijikata's arms, but if it is he hears no complaint. Again, initially there's a stiffness that comes on instinct but slowly he relaxes, allowing the planes of his back to match those of Gintoki's front, odd and misfitting in some places and perfect fit in others.

Shinpachi looks at them in bewilderment, expression going from horrified to understanding to accepting, and then sees the little cards and star shaped cheap candies that nobody but Gintoki would buy, and suddenly he knows where he's been all at once. Kondo glances towards them, as if challenging Gintoki to let go if he were ashamed but he didn't so much as budge. He notices that the raven locks now smell like green apple, possibly from the hospital shampoo, and ponders whether he likes this better and decides he doesn't. He finds his fingers tracing the other's first name again, but can't bring the words to pass his lips so keeps silent. It's on this day that Hijikata asks a question and Gintoki knows he's been wondering too long, "Why did you come?" And he doesn't just mean today. He means _why would you show up every day for two and a half weeks to the hospital room of a stranger on a whim?_

Gintoki wants to say they aren't strangers, wants to say they should at least be something close to friends and wants to ask if he's willing to become drinking buddies. He looks at his hand over Hijikata's shoulder and sees a red string connecting their little fingers, he frowns and blinks, and it's gone but he can still feel a tug on his hand. When was the last time he slept? He sighs against the muscle and rests his face there, answering with a quiet, "Wanted t' see you." Hijikata hums and the unspoken question hits him again, 'Why?' But he decides this is the perfect time to ask, "When you get better, lets go out for a drink." Then cringes as he realises that sounds awfully like a date and considers that as well. His mind is addled with the somnolent comfort of Hijikata just near him and he can't contemplate that just yet so lets the question hang ambiguous.

He feels more than sees the dip of his chin that's paired with a slight shrug. Gintoki smiles, and forgets there's four others watching him. Hijikata seems to recognise what he's been drawing on the fabric and frowns, the slightest shift of expression, but doesn't object. After all, the name hasn't left his lips yet. They stay like this too long, the screaming gets louder around them and it's only when Katsura enters the room with a, "Gin-Gintoki! I didn't know you were into-" that the spell around them is broken.  
Gintoki's beyond annoyed because Hijikata moves to allow him to talk and he desperately didn't want him to move, so he groans and throws the nearest thing he can find at Zura, which happens to be an empty bottle of medicine that smashes against his face. Elizabeth carries him away still in shock and Gintoki whines again, reaching his hands to find Hijikata and is met with cold fingers on his wrists.

Now he positively hates Katsura and the bastard's horrible timing, and pouts at Hijikata. The man squeezes his wrist and that's enough of a response, so he drops his hands and yawns. "Are you done cuddling up to our vice commander Danna?" Sougo asks, holding off Kagura with one hand and a sheathed sword. Before Gintoki can answer Sougo smirks devilishly, like he's caught onto the joke of the century and continues, "He's very nice to cuddle with, everyone in the Shinsengumi asks for hugs all the time, although he usually kicks them and asks them to commit seppuku." Hijikata himself has a slight furrow of confusion in his brow and Gintoki knows by that that Sougo is lying, but Kondo and the others certainly don't. "Sougo! Why didn't you tell me?! Toshi come here~", is sung out before Kondo launches himself at Hijikata and hugs him so tight that he nearly falls on the bed and in his current state he can't protest. His arms remain limp instead of holding Kondo, unlike the requite that he'd given the other by resting his arms on the pair Gintoki had wrapped around him.

Kondo is gushing and marvelling about how Sougo is right and he's so comfortable, then Kagura shoves him out of the way to have her turn and hugs Hijikata, pressing her face to his exposed neck and he reaches up a hand to pat her once. Then Kagura's gushing, "What's this?! How can a Shinsengumi dog have such soft skin and still be strong?! Where do his muscles go?!" All while twisting her face around in his neck, crumpling the fabric of his shirt. Then Kondo pulls her away and they're screaming about who's turn it is; Sougo nudges Shinpachi, who is obviously curious as well and he comes to sit in front of Hijikata and asks politely, "May I hug you, Hijikata-san?" And Hijikata nods listlessly, moving his arms behind him so Shinpachi can wrap his own around his torso and clearly the boy is blushing out of embarrassment. Hijikata sighs, and rests one arm against the boy's back to calm him down and soon Shinpachi looks amazed too and mumbles, "He's so warm! How is he so warm? Why is his skin this soft?! Why are his fingers so cold?"

Gintoki really wants nothing more than to shove the four of them out the window and lock the door so Zura can't get in again, but can't comprehend why. So he sits quietly as Shinpachi thanks him and lets go, still looking amazed, and proceeds to try to separate Kondo and Kagura so they don't destroy the room. Gintoki's attention is pulled by a tug on the sleeve of his yukata, and is more than glad when Hijikata rests his cheek against Gintoki's collar and breathes more calmly. Gintoki's arm wraps around his waist again and he's perfectly happy to stay like this permanently, but the nurse comes in to tell them visiting hours are over and he notices the tangerine swirls of sunset outside the window. He looks down, admiring the light cast on Hijikata's lashes and cheeks, flecking his hair with the rose and sky blue hues of sunset and bringing out the forest undertone. Peach shadows play across the pale skin, urging Gintoki to touch his cheek at least.

His fingers held an inch from them; he didn't allow himself so intimate a touch, whether the other was coherent or not. The nurse was still yelling, and Shinpachi was calling, "Gin-san! We can come back later! Lets go!" Of course there was no 'later' considering Hijikata would be released tomorrow, and Gintoki wonders briefly if he would never see the light colour his face in this way. After another moment mapping the picture in his mind, he nudges Hijikata lightly, causing him to shift and blink at him, then at everyone else and the nurse before dropping his head on the pillow and tugging the sheets back up. The nurse flushes pink and Gintoki would've flicked her in the head if Sougo hadn't already. While the five of them walked from the room he heard Kagura complain, "It's no fair, Gin-chan got to cuddle longest. Gin-chan it's not nice to take advantage of knowing things beforehand." Gintoki scoffed, resisting the urge to point out that Hijikata himself did not know and instead yawned widely. A certain contented feeling swelled and twined itself around the pit of anxiety Hijikata's emotionless eyes had drilled into him.

Of course the exact next day he's proven wrong when he goes to see Hijikata, expecting maybe some form of welcome but is met by a swirling vortex of cruel wartime spawn in those eyes and a muted hum before the vice commander is gone, hands in his pockets and jacket billowing behind him. He isn't even acknowledged, not a word is said, and Sougo joins him on the patio to share the piercing silence. Yes, piercing, because every single shred of his heart and soul feels like hundreds of daggers are stabbing him all at once, and his mind is in ruins as to how exactly he'd let his guard drop. The telltale signs were all there and yet he hadn't noticed till he'd gotten a proper look at his eyes. Whenever Hijikata's food looked untouched he would say he would eat later, whenever he looked exhausted in the hospital Gintoki chalked it up to the injury and even the stupidly obvious gifts from the nurses because which nurse in their right mind would waste chocolates on a man they'd never met? The damn staffing was overdosing him, the hospital was the only close one at the time but the doctor treating him was immature and the fucker had _overdosed_ Hijikata every day for nearly three weeks. And somehow Gintoki didn't notice? Honestly?

The after effects came like a whiplash, Hijikata isolating himself surrounded by paperwork, throwing away any semblance of organisation and immersing fully in his work. His face was barely seen outside the office and food left untouched at every meal. Gintoki visited the Shinsengumi every weekend only to hear the exact same words from Sougo, "He hasn't gotten better." And of course he hasn't, how could he have when he was still dealing with the after effects of medicine and particularly _painkiller_ overdose? Gintoki didn't know very much but apparently an overdose of this particular painkiller had a side effect of lowering the pain threshold for a duration after dosage stops. Lowering the pain threshold for a _samurai_ who was meant to go on _raids_ and _fight the Joui faction_. Still there isn't a single complaint from the vice commander and Gintoki knows he should've noticed before, it was just plain cruel to watch. After the first week he sees Hijikata, covered in the blood of his victims, walking towards the barracks. He makes no move to acknowledge Gintoki, just continues walking and Gintoki is wondering just what level he feels pain at. They don't speak, and Gintoki's heading in the opposite direction anyway.

The cold evening air whips around him, making him wish he had taken at least a scarf, and he ducks into the shop quietly, relishing the warmth. "Gintoki?" It's Kyubei, alone and seemingly in disguise, sipping an orange liquid from her glass. He slides into the booth next to her, she's fairly less of a nuisance than anyone else at this time. He orders a milkshake and drums his fingers against the hardwood of the table. "Not drinking tonight?" Comes the question after a drawn out silence, and he makes a low sound of affirmation by way of an acknowledgement. The waiter serves the milkshake and he sips, watching the ice clink in Kyubei's glass. The quietude isn't uncomfortable, she knows better than anyone that there are times samurai need to collect their thoughts, if he could even call himself that. When he's gotten through half the drink he speaks, in a voice so soft he's unsure if she's heard him, "...have you ever been overdosed?"  
The answer is chaste, "On which kind of medicine?"  
"Painkillers."

She looks pensive, and tugs at her ponytail once before tapping a finger against the glass, "Yes, when I was younger, the caretaker was new and I had gotten injured in a fight." He made no response, and she deduced he wanted to know more so she continued, "It wasn't heavy overdose, he gave me the dosage for an adult instead of a child, but the medicine had a side effect of increasing my capability to feel pain."  
At this he perked up, letting the straw fall away from his lips and giving her his full attention.  
"It was not terrible since I had only taken the medicine for three days but for nearly a week after, even leaning against tree bark or scratching sand was a pain like having my skin peeled off with knives. I've heard in more prolonged overdosage, air itself can feel like cuts of metal string and breathing is worse than swallowing a box of toothpicks." Gintoki clenches his teeth, crushing the straw as he takes it back in his mouth and allows the taste of milkshake to slow his racing thoughts. Kyubei is patient, she doesn't speak any longer, and he's thankful for that. He's thankful for the relative silence that allows him to think.

If he recalled correctly, Sougo mentioned they would be having weekly raids on various terrorist-rumoured locations in Edo, and according to Kyubei's information Hijikata's symptoms would last a fair three more weeks. But even if he could corner him, he had no way of curing the symptoms and could do nothing by way of helping him. Still, Hijikata was a samurai so he probably wouldn't even tell Kondo or Sougo of anything at all. "Kyubei-chan, is there a cure?"  
"Not that I know of. Have you been overdosed, Gintoki?"  
"No, not me." So there was no way but to wait it out, and dammit all Gintoki was never the strategist so he hadn't the slightest idea how to go about thinking of ways to help the dark haired man. Kyubei offered a faint smile when he lifted his gaze, and he returned it in kind, dread masking his expression at the telltale sound of straw against the empty milkshake cup.

-

The ruffle of clothes against his skin is enough for pain to come lancing up his arm and Hijikata sighs, more in a need of oxygen than to let out exasperation. The hilt of his katana scratches his palm and he feels like his hands are bleeding uncontrollably; a glance downwards disproves his notion. The Joui group around him doesn't seem to catch anything amiss, and takes his distraction as a moment to lunge at him, three of them at once. Hijikata twists his left leg, spinning with it and slashes the first man across the torso, then stabs forward to impale the second and switches his sword with ease to his left hand, slicing the third man about the shoulders in a backhand sweep while taking the sword of the man in front of him to fill his empty right hand. Holding one sword forwards and the other in reverse, ignoring the bloody scratching against his palms demanding he just drop both blades, he lunges forward towards the four remaining terrorists in front of him. Two are cut down as he pivots on his right foot and spins, the remaining two jab for his stomach and his shoulders; he slices through the first in a shredding outward motion of both blades and uses his shoulder as leverage to drop the remaining man with a sword down his throat.

Various wounds tainting his skin, form drenched in crimson and dull eyes holding a red glow to the blue, it's obvious to anyone who looks at him that this is the demon of the Shinsengumi. He's forgotten about leaving any rebels alive, and forgotten the paperwork will be ridiculous, all that matters at the moment is whether or not his bloodthirsty hunger is sated, but he realises that's a bottomless pit soon enough and can't bring himself to care. Someone calls out from the armrest at the raised path above him, "Hijikata-kun-" is as far as they get before Hijikata's kicked the two blades out of their sheaths from the man below him, catching one in his teeth and kicking the other exactly towards the voice with enough force to see it impale. Only the owner of said voice manages to avoid that just barely enough by deflecting it a few inches with his bokutō because that's all he has time for. With a sword clenched in his teeth and two others in his hands, uniform barely torn but dyed in blood, he must've been quite a sight to the natural perm. And he knew that's who it is, because nobody else carried around a damn wooden sword as if it wasn't a toy. "Oi oi you shouldn't go impaling your friends like that, what if Gin-san had actually been stabbed? What would you have done then Vice-commander-san? Would you take responsibility?" The voice grates against his nerves but he can't pretend he has something to do since he's surrounded by corpses, so he drops the sword from his teeth and the other he'd picked up, sheathing his own after slicing outwards hoping that would shake off some of the blood. Gintoki isn't talking anymore, though his eyes are fixed on Hijikata's movements. His voice tears against his throat from inside, but he manages a quiet, "What do you want, Yorozuya?"

"I know how that feels."  
"What?" He asks, because what the _fuck_ could that natural perm know behind those dead-fish, disinterested eyes? What could he know when the bastard sat around reading JUMP all day with no job and no decent hobbies? What could he possibly know about the Vice-commander of the Shinsengumi who really had too much work under too soon deadlines, who worked day in and out by sunlight or by candlelight just to fight off the clawing feeling of uselessness that settled in his stomach with the lack of motion? The sugar addict didn't have a sadist maniac trying to assassinate him fifty times a day as a subordinate and an indecent gorilla without a single shred of shame as a superior, and didn't have to still maintain a semblance of order among the utter chaos from both directions.

It had changed a little, a few weeks ago, but he was still expecting a bomb to appear in his uniform or a late night call from a bar that Kondo had passed out in. He was still expecting his office to be blown to bits or a sword to come slashing through the wall, and a screaming bunch of cabaret girls dragging a drunk naked man to the office to turn him in for indecent exposure and attempted assault. There were days he'd furiously deny that to be his boss and others where he'd swear up and down he was seriously ill and ask them to forgive the Commander. But somewhere he knew Gintoki might understand, though he didn't know every detail he would've liked to, he did know more than most about the man, and it was his past of the furious name 'Shiroyasha' that induced the strange admiration he held for him.

"I know what it feels like to lose yourself to your sword's ceaseless craving for blood", is the quiet response, left swirling with the flecks of carnage in the air around them, and it's clear in the words that Gintoki is telling him he doesn't have to answer. His burning eyes widen, but the possible lie in the other's words bites his tongue hard enough that he can do little more than look at him, every emotion that he'd been draining crashing in a tsunami onto the shores of his blood-soaked, hollow blue eyes. It occurs to him fleetingly that he must look vulnerable, and the snarl draws his brows together as he pulls away the sensation from his skin and empties his eyes remorselessly. Though he hasn't been looking particularly, the panicked flush that contorts Gintoki's features makes him wonder if the man had anxiety attacks sometimes, or flashes from the war that left him breathless and in tears at times he couldn't predict; and denounces that even if he did it couldn't be very often because if any of his hordes of friends had seen such a thing they would be much more careful with him. Hijikata considers asking if it's that very war driving the insanity in his eyes right now, and is still trying to dissuade it as not being his place to ask when shivering hands grip his wrist and bring it up, sugar-tinged breath escaping into the air between them. He doesn't complain about the pressure on his hand, just stares at Gintoki, still draining away his eyes in silence.

"Stop that", is the choked whisper that curls around his neck, glinting off his skin and ruffling his hair. The twitch of his fingers must have conveyed his confusion and Gintoki spoke again, desperation creeping into his voice, "Stop- stop dousing that fire in your eyes, please, _please_ , Hijikata!"  
At any other time he would've shot back asking the man where he'd procured a dictionary, but mute silence is the only thing he could offer right now. It's a flash of his light that makes him suddenly able to see a fell chain connecting their throats and a billowing beast of shadows digging it's nails into Gintoki's shoulders, but then it's gone and he tries to believe he'd imagined it.

Testily, he lifts his free hand to brush where the claws had torn through pale skin and the other's breath catches, eyes widening. "H-how?" Is the coughing question, and Hijikata briefly tells himself shadowy monsters don't exist and he couldn't have seen one, before asking, "What is it?" And Gintoki yanks the leather of his shirt so the zip slides down and the sleeve is off his shoulder. A thick, jagged scar taints his skin and Hijikata ghosts his fingers over the area as the other mumbles, "An Amanto, during the war. It's my darkest scar."

"And it hurts when you're panicked?" The question comes out more as a statement and Gintoki bites his lip before letting out a dry laugh. "It's ridiculous how you understand." And Hijikata desperately wants to say he doesn't, say he's nothing compared to Gintoki and his bright hair and brighter aura, drawing everyone in with his presence, but he does understand _this_. Even if he had the aura of a dead man without a soul, he could at least understand the blinding pain of wounds time did little to heal. A spear of pain shot across his visual field, and he clenched his teeth darkly.

"Why are you panicked?" He asks, more exhausted with just standing than with talking at this point, his eyes were stinging and his legs were barely holding his frame up. Gintoki doesn't answer immediately, Hijikata considers leaving quietly, but he knows the feeling, he knows what caves inside him when he just can't find words to describe or explain anything he might've liked to say. The creak of wood draws his gaze to the clenched fist around the engraved 'Lake Toya' on the bokutō, and Hijikata tries to decipher the expressions, but sees little past the hair shadowing his face. "Will you go for a drink with me?" Is the question that replaces all his guesswork as to what the natural perm would say, it definitely wasn't this. But, he reasoned to himself that drinks couldn't be so bad, they were something of friends by now, the title of enemies serving as a ridiculously old front; and so he accepts with a silent inclination of his head. Gintoki has places to be and people to take care of, and Hijikata was craving a warm enough sleep to wash away some of the fatigue in his body. "I'll come find you at the Shinsengumi next Friday, keep it free for me", the silver haired man says, and Hijikata nods again, feeling the fingers around his wrist unclamp and move away. The frigid night air quickly cuts through the warmth their forms had left, lingering on the drifting promise.


	3. Quietude

Quietude  
Sakata Gintoki/Hijikata Toshiro

He hears from Sougo that Kondo's given Hijikata the day off, and feels himself smile when he realises it's because he'd said he'd keep the day free. There's an extra spring in his step when he tells Shinpachi and Kagura he won't be back till late and trips out the door after trying to set his perm straight for the fifth time. The two barely care, only tell him not to waste money and go back to what they were doing. He scratches at his hair and manages to get away from Zura before he can eat away Gintoki's time.

He watches the police car sirens follow the terrorist and sighs, shakes his head and turns back to the Shinsengumi barracks. He finds the dark-haired man fairly easily, he's standing at the entrance with Sougo and talking silently. Well, Sougo is, he's nodding passively and occasionally putting forth a remark. Gintoki finds it different to see him in a casual blue yukata, the colour of the ocean, and begins to wonder why he didn't wear these clothes more often instead of Shinsengumi uniform. The yukata is tied with a dark purple obi, off which his sword hangs inconspicuously, like it wasn't the destructive flash of blood-coated horror that he'd seen last week.

Hijikata's eyes flick up, but he doesn't move. Sougo, however, notices his momentary distraction and turns his head with half a snarl on his lips, only to drop that to his neutral indifference when he catches sight of Gintoki. Grinning and walking up, he slings an arm around Sougo and jokingly asks, "So? Whatcha talking about?" The sandy blonde shrugs, "This and that. I hear you're taking Hijikata-san off somewhere?" It's meant to be a question but hardly sounds more than a scoff, and Gintoki gestures with his free hand casually, "Yeah, I thought I should hang out more with Hijikata-kun, since he doesn't appear at the Yorozuya like everyone else." Kondo steps out of the room behind them, arms crossed and a rough expression set on his usually cheery face. "Toshi, if we cut in the front of the building, should Sougo's squad surround or enter from the back?"

Hijikata's voice is silent, tired, and much quieter than he remembers, "Leave those strategies, if it leaks to them on a day before the raid they'll have forewarning. Use the sixty fifth plan from my folder and make adjustments on the day of the raid."  
Sougo stands quietly, eyes on Kondo, pleading for him to say something to get a ruse out of the Vice-commander but Kondo shakes his head and turns to Gintoki, "Be careful and don't take Toshi somewhere inappropriate." Then as an afterthought he adds, "He's never enjoyed those things." Gintoki nods, too shaken up with the fell atmosphere to properly respond, and removes his hand from Sougo's shoulders. A silent beckoning gesture over his shoulder is the most considerate he can do, and the shuffle of sandals behind him indicates that's enough.

Hijikata doesn't ask where they're going, doesn't ask what they'll be doing, doesn't even ask why Gintoki had called him out of work. This serves to calm some of the nausea swirling from the thought he might have to give an explanation he doesn't have. It's still sunny out, hardly past noon, and Gintoki glances at the sun briefly before averting his eyes to shield the burn.

"'re ya actually albino?"

He's shocked, and forgets how to speak for a few minutes because he was completely sure he wouldn't have to. He fumbles for his voice quickly and replies a, "Yeah, far 's I know. Didn't know my parents." Hijikata nods slowly, and turns his eyes back to the gravel road. It's surprising how easily words he doesn't say to anyone spill from his lips at the first genuine question from Hijikata Toshiro. He expected that least of all, expected maybe it would be Shinpachi or Gran he'd confide in first, if they caught him in a bad state on a bad day; but here he was calmly telling the dark haired Shinsengumi officer everything he usually bit his tongue on.

Though he knows it's pressing, and probably rude, he's compelled to ask, "What about you?" The other seems like he isn't going to answer, his eyes remain on the road and his walk doesn't slow, but his tongue pokes out to wet his lips and Gintoki knows he's going to speak. "Clearly I'm not an albino, but I knew my mom. My dad died before I was taken into that family", his voice is soft and silent, like every word had the power to shatter glass in all directions, and Gintoki picks up with conviction that those words _had_ indeed shattered the glass mirrors of his heart, throwing debris beyond the scope of his vision, and that was what it was in his eyes when Gintoki could swear he saw shards in that gunmetal sea. This information gripped him, causing him to purse his lips but Hijikata would say no more. They'd come far from Kabuki district now, and he caught the Vice commander's upper arm by way of stopping him. "I'm taking you to a respectable place. It serves alcohol and decent food, and you probably know I don't have too much money but I didn't play pachinko yesterday so don't worry about it", he says reassuringly, pointing to a dark tiled roof over grey painted walls and a thick mahogany door that slid along merrily on swinging hinges.

Hijikata nods and Gintoki lets go, turning towards the shop with the other's rustling footsteps behind him. The sound is comforting, it's quiet and monotonous, nothing but a reminder that he isn't walking alone through bloody haunting shadows anymore, and that has a soothing effect that brings a smile to his lips. Just existing with the other was enough, talking, breathing, silence, presence, just knowing he was there. His steps became more measured, keeping pace with Hijikata and revelling in the warm feeling of the air they walked through. A soft tune strung through his vocal cords as he pushed open the door, greeting the familiar smile of the owner and choosing his usual seat near the counter, watching Hijikata slide into the seat next to him and look blankly up at the menu painted above.

"What brings you back here Gintoki? I haven't seen you since you were here complaining about your lack of girlfriend", the woman gives him a knowing smile, casting a glance at Hijikata and back, "Have you and your friend come to bitch?" There's no bitterness in her voice as she finishes cleaning the counter and pushes the cloth into a drawer. Hijikata answers, "No, I have nothing to bitch about." The woman is quick to answer, "Oh ho, your friend already has a girl huh? What about you Gintoki?" Hijikata flicks his piercing gaze to her smiling russet orbs and answers quietly, "I don't, but I don't care for one." Gintoki sees the nervous flash as the brunette lady turns to him, but doesn't miss the flush on her cheeks and grits his teeth.

Hijikata's hand clenches under the desk and Gintoki reaches over to pry his fingers apart and hold them away from his palm before offering a teasing, "The both of us are very much single Miss, we're just over here to get lunch and some saké." Her laughter rings along the room as she slides over smaller versions of the menu for them to look at and goes to bring out some liquor. Gintoki doesn't let go of Hijikata's fingers once, and glances through the menu knowing already what he wants. The dark haired man takes a moment to look through the variety of choice before he's settled on some foreign dish of sizzling fish and tartar sauce, and Gintoki knows a foreign shop was the better choice on his part. The clink of cups against wood is met by the soft tone of Hijikata's deep voice as he orders and she smiles, before turning to Gintoki, writing already before he manages to say, "Pancakes with chocolate sauce, of course."

She disappears once more, after pouring sparkling liquid into their cups and offering a final, welcoming smile. Gintoki downs it in one shot and pretends he hasn't, watching Hijikata sip slowly without a word. "D'ya want somethin'?" He asks, without glancing Gintoki's way, and the latter puts his cup down quietly and props his elbow on the counter, resting his head in his hand, "Yeah, I emptied my cup. Would you mind?" Hijikata sighs and puts down his own half filled cup, picking up the bottle and pouring carefully, arms poised in a striking resemblance to Kyoushiro or Tsukuyo, and Gintoki realises again with conviction that there are times when the man is forced to work in the host club. As much as he dislikes it and doesn't so much as smile for the women he serves, he's ridiculously popular any time he's there. Though Gintoki has worked as a host too at times, the other had not, thankfully, caught sight of him working at the okama bar.

He's suddenly curious how the other would look when cross dressing, with his long lashes and perfect hair, but there's something else he wants to ask, "Hijikata-kun, where are you from? The countryside?" The other sighs, downing the remainder of his cup and propping his cheek on his palm, "Yeah, m'from the country. Why're ya askin'?" Gintoki swirls the liquid in his cup and shrugs, "Your accent. It's a different dialect though not completely. I like it." His dark haired companion offers no response, only reaching for the bottle to have his hand stopped, because if Hijikata was pouring for him he might as well return the favour, as terrible a job he did as a host.

Again, there's no animosity or even confusion as he tips his arm and refills for the other before setting the white bottle down with a faint tap and glances upwards in a mock smile. He's never been good with words, and though right now he would so much love to have a jesting yelling idiot's flushed drunken threats, he's ridiculously overjoyed that he was accompanied at all instead of being turned down flat on the spot. He doesn't have the voice to say thank you, doesn't have the courage to say sorry, and doesn't have the right to ask him where his broken pieces lay in the dead wind, and wonders bitterly if they were in salty drops of tears like his own. His own disgusting resolve usually fell apart with tears streaking his pale cheeks red, eyes stinging and mouth burning and he could've sworn parts of his soul had dropped away with the tears and hell, if salt had taken it away then maybe sugar could give it back?

Hijikata taps his hand once, glances at his vibrant eyes and takes in the emotion momentarily. The tap turns to a light scrape of the nail against his bony knuckles but he wants nothing more than to flip his palm and clutch the other's delicate fingers in his own, because he _understands_ dammit and Gintoki wishes he were good enough with words to convey his simple aching gratitude. Waves of chilled emotion rile through his blood as he downs the liquid again, flicking his tired gaze up to the owner of the shop as steaming plates were placed softly in front of them. He knows what pancakes taste like but he couldn't, for the life of him, ever remember it after he was done eating. Clapping his hands in surprising time with the other, two sets of chopsticks snapped wood as they broke apart and were spun to comfortable positions between the fingers of the two men.

Drowning his food in the chocolate sauce he was brought, he cut pieces off slowly in attempt to ration it so he could have it for the longest time. As he eats, he turns his head and gazes at Hijikata, savouring that he wasn't itching to leave. Truth be told he probably wasn't longing to stay either but if the words could be twisted to pluck strings in Gintoki's chest then he sure as hell would twist them. He barely even takes note that the woman is replacing the empty bottle with another one, realising they had probably finished it with little thought. "So how do you get your hair set perfectly like that?" Hijikata glances up, finishes chewing the piece of fish he'd put in his mouth, swallows with a bob of his throat and then rests his palm on his cheek again so he could look more comfortably at the person he was talking to, "I don't set it, it's just like that." Gintoki hums, thinking of something to say but his attention snaps back with the comment of, "I'm a police officer, d'ya think I have time to set my hair?" And he laughs, softly, reaching out his free hand and pausing briefly, "Can I touch?" Hijikata shrugs by way of affirmation, and cuts another piece from the fish, dipping it briefly in whatever sauce that was and putting it in his mouth.

Gintoki lets his fingers graze the raven hair briefly to gauge a reaction but there was none, only curious eyes staring at him and he reached a little to bury his fingers in the soft locks and tousle the hair slightly, still revelling in the fact that his hair was as goddamn soft as it looked and that certainly was not fair when he was stuck with a mess of a perm wishing for straight hair. Hijikata's gaze moved up, combing through his hair, and back down to rest on his face before turning towards the food once more. Gintoki smiles, his fingers not leaving the other's hair, and almost squeals like a girl when Hijikata shifts his head to lean into his fingers, because _hell_ when did the demon vice commander become so _adorable?_ Gintoki watched raptly as Hijikata opened his mouth, frowned, closed it, and reached for his cup of saké, sipping it again before murmuring, "My hair...used to be longer."

He lightly presses his fingers in the hair as a sign to continue and sighs in relief when he does, "Used to tie it up like that Yagyuu girl." Gintoki marvels at the strands between his fingers, "Why'd you cut it then, Hijikata-kun?"  
He fiddles with the ends at the nape of his neck and smiles at the soft sigh he receives, along with the quiet words of, "It became a sign of the yakuza or Joui patriots to wear hair ties, and it was a reminder of...ah..." His words trail away into the empty space, and his eyes turn distant so fast Gintoki is scared he's going to lose him, so he clutches at the back of his hair gently and presses his fingers there, "Reminder of what?"  
"...Mitsuba."

The name was enough for Gintoki to know he'd absolutely stepped on a mine, and he had to do something or all this luck he was having with talking to the Vice commander would blow up faster than he could order a parfait. But there was a morbid curiosity, why didn't Hijikata talk about her? What had happened? All he knew was she was Sougo's older sister. Gintoki curled the locks he was playing with and idly murmured, "I've never been in love you know? I've loved before. Shouyou-sensei, Takasugi, Zura, even Sakamoto, and now there are others I treasure but I've never been in love." Even though Hijikata knew he was the Shiroyasha, and him announcing his ties like this could get him arrested, he knew if he was arrested for that it wouldn't be by this policeman.

Maybe little by little they could get to know each other, maybe he wouldn't be scorned for anything, maybe he was only thinking this because Hijikata was so similar to him and still so much better. "She...wasn't disgusted by my eating habits, she didn't cry when I rejected her or beg me to stay when I left, she didn't even hate me for being as cold as I was when I saw her again. But through all of those she smiled at me, laughed with me, and she loved me like nobody else ever has", the words pour from his mouth slowly, cautiously, like he was expecting a hard slap to the face but Gintoki merely pushed his half-finished plate a little, listening with all his attention, "I didn't want to burden her with my death, and I had always been 'Baragaki Toshi' which was bad enough, and she was already so ill my burdening her with love only to have either of us die would've been cruel. All those years, and she never got better. She and Kondo-san are the only ones who cared for me, wretch that I am."

Gintoki's heart wrenches, because if losing ones you held dear had given him the ridiculously empty soul he had, then what would it be like to lose someone who held your heart in their hands? He moves his fingers down to cup the other's cheek softly, using this to turn his face so Gintoki could look him dead in the eyes when he said softly, "Count me in that." He's met by warm breath against his face and a quiet, "What?"  
"Count me among the idiots who care for you, you dense moron."

Hijikata scoffs, but colour tints his cheeks as he refills Gintoki's empty cup and finishes off his food just as the silver haired man finishes practically drinking the remaining chocolate sauce, being careful to keep his hands free of it so he could pet Hijikata's hair some more later. They both down another bottle of liquor before they pay and leave, Gintoki silently crying at the pinch to his purse but also glad he'd been able to do something at least. "So, ah...tell me about...Shouyou, your teacher right?" Gintoki sighs softly, steering the other to the park so they could sit for a while, even though it looked like it would snow soon.

Though he's refused more times than he cares to remember to say a single word about his teacher, he finds it easy to tell Hijikata that Shouyou had saved him from the barren corpsefield wastelands, had taken him in and cared for him, taught him rules and principals and vague academic things he only remembers partially. Shouyou had saved him and given him a spark of life and a home, along with friends he could laugh with and for a time the world was right. His voice sputters and dies when his story approaches the wartime, and he clasps his hands and sighs out misty breath. Hijikata leans over and pries his fingers apart, noticing the red crescent marks imprinted on his skin that Gintoki hadn't even realised he'd been making. "The war was...a bad time, I s'pose. You don't hav'ta talk unless you want to", in silent comfort, he slipped his cold fingers into Gintoki's pale palm, squeezing slightly. The first snowflake touched his silver curls as he answered an honest, "Thank you, Hijikata", a smile adorning his face. There wasn't a thing more he had to say, no pressure to keep going, no decisions he had to make with this man, just a soft reassurance of camaraderie, and a gripping desire to see him smile for real and his eyes light up with colour and life.

The snow stings his skin, and he makes no attempt to keep any part of himself warm because maybe the freezing cold could numb his sensation enough not to feel the constant feverish dizziness, growing tiredness and heady nauseousness shuddering through him. Gintoki shivers, somehow melding a breathy laugh with the movement and turns Hijikata's hand to lace their fingers, and strangely it doesn't feel like sandpaper scraping away at him, it's warm and comfortable. Gintoki raises their joined hands to his mouth and blows warm air over the skin, sending a rush of sensation skittering up his arm.

Hijikata honestly doesn't want to talk, it hurts his throat and his chest and leaves a ripping feeling in his mouth, scratching at his tongue and the skin of the inside of it. Gintoki raises his carmine eyes with gentle inquisition, drawing a sigh from Hijikata's lips. "...it hurts when I talk", he admits, expecting a look of pity for how pathetic that sounded but Gintoki only smiles wanly, "Overdose still affecting you?" This instigates the raise of his eyebrow, a controlled frown of confusion splaying across his features and Gintoki runs a hand through his hair, "...you don't know?" He offers a shake of the head as a response, and there's a purse of peach lips before he's answered with, "The doctors at the hospital gave you too much painkiller and the symptom for overdose is that you'll feel pain heightened for three to four weeks after. I guess that's two weeks or so from now?"

Hijikata's scowl deepens and his wandering gaze settles on the white crystals of frost on his sandals and bare feet, longing for his uniform leather boots for once, as he tries to believe what he'd just been told. "Don't tell me you've been thinking that you're childishly feeling pain that isn't there? Are you serious?" Well if seriousness was involved, yes, he did believe all his meaningless pain was probably a reflection of his slowly faltering mental sanity, that he was being unreasonable and childish, that he'd get used to it. His cheeks are pressed against a thick white cloth and he registers the warm fingers in his hair as Gintoki's, feeling the sound in his throat as he incredulously murmurs, "Vice-commander-san I honestly can't believe you sometimes."

To be honest a lot of the time he can't believe himself or the fact that he was still alive at all, but maybe this time it really wasn't his fault. "You serious about this medicine thing, natural perm?" The scrape of his throat is harsher than the ash of three packets of cigarettes on his worse days. He receives a hum in response, and the man's free hand wraps around Hijikata's waist without a single care who'd be watching, and there's no form of gratitude like this. Moist breath fans the top of his head then the back of his neck as he's pulled closer, but the closeness is reassuring. Just the touch, just the feeling that another living breathing person was here and the proof was ghosting on his neck, it was wondrously comforting. Like an anchor to a ship he was definitely sinking away from.

Gintoki's fingers thread through his locks absently as he hums the tune to a postal service commercial that Hijikata remembers from passing by an electronics shop, and remembers that unlike him, the Yorozuya was free all the damn time and watching the commercials between reruns on the television was at times their most eventful task of the day. He scoffs, but also thinks for the first time that he'd do terribly in that position. True, he had switched bodies with the bastard at one point but that hadn't been for very long and was spent changing and rectifying the behavioural system, but actually being in a position where most of the hours of his day every day were free would crush him like an aluminium can. It's no secret that he does more work and keeps more order than any singular person he could name, and all this because the work was a constant in his life, consequences be damned.

It was something to occupy his time and his mind, to keep him from drifting into his self loathing thoughts. It didn't even matter if the work was trying to draw meaning from Yamazaki's anpan exorcism, at least he had an excuse to scream his head off at the responsible person and kick him around as much as he wished. But now he couldn't do that anymore, now Yamazaki could spend his lifetime reviving anpan on paper and swinging a 'minton racket at street corners for all he cared. The Shinsengumi would progress, they had Kondo-san, Sougo, and Shimaru as well, Hijikata could fall back to only his responsibility and not the punishments for the lack thereof of his subordinates. Gintoki slows his hum to a soft rumble and asks under his breath, "I can feel you thinking. Mind telling me what about?"

He lowers his arms around Gintoki's neck for lack of anywhere else to put them and convinces himself that he could talk for this little while until he was alone again in his quarters. "The Shinsengumi. How Sougo's goin'ta punish them for slacking off when he himself is doing that half the time. How they're goin'ta handle the authority shift." The fingers pause, carding through his bangs softly and holding them away from his face.  
"Then don't shift the authority, Vice-commander. Take a break and go back full strength."  
"I can't do that. I never could."

He's referring to too many times he's screwed up with his life because he just didn't have the right strength of character. How he was too cowardly to accept Mitsuba but too selfish to reject, how he was too quiet to become relied on but too loud to be revered, how he was too slow to stop Tamegoro from losing his eyes but too fast to stop his young fingers from murdering all the men there. How he never fit in with his father's family, how he busted dojo after dojo to pieces with its inhabitants and hadn't given a care in the world to those people, how-  
"Hijikata-kun, let me make you an offer?"  
"H...uh?"

"Take the next two weeks off. Stay with the Yorozuya, stay at my place. We don't have as much money as you guys but we're scraping by with the money from the last few jobs, and I have an extra futon and blankets stuffed in my cupboard. We could always just get Pattsuan to ask the gorilla if you don't want to go-"  
He tightens his hold on Gintoki's neck and nuzzles his cheek there slightly before moving away, the other watching his hands fall away from Hijikata's hair and waist.

"Is that a yes?"  
"Close as you'll get, bastard."


	4. Sentinel

Sentinel

Sakata Gintoki/Hijikata Toshirou

Gintoki had managed to convince Hijikata to come stay with the Yorozuya starting that weekend, which was a bit of a compromise since Gintoki had insisted he not go back at all. Still, the condition was that he get to talk to the Gorilla so here he was, with Kagura and Shinpachi arguing at his heels, at the entrance to the Shinsengumi compound. "How'd Gin-san get to this level?" He sighs, scratching his head and crossing through, spotting a plain looking officer scribbling furiously in a notebook by the centre of the compound, and is stopped from raising his voice by Kagura tugging his sleeve, "Gin-chan, are we going to kill the sadist today? Did Toshi hire us Gin-chan?"

"No Kagura, you see poor Toshi's been fed too much medicine and he's very very sick, and you know the Gorilla and Soichiro-kun probably don't know how to deal with it so Gin-san's letting him stay with us out of the goodness of his will."  
"Whoa! You're so caring Gin-chan!"  
"Gin-san, how do you know he was..."  
"Overdosed? Pattsuan, didn't you see the amount of bottles? Isn't that ridiculous for just painkillers?"  
"Well, I suppose it might be but-"

"Ah, Jimmy-kun! Jimmy-kun come here a minute!" His voice springs around the buildings and Yamazaki shoots up to come closer, yelling, "My name isn't Jimmy! Why are you even still using that name?!" Shinpachi sighs, in perfect understanding of the ordinary man in the vision of his ordinary glasses. Gintoki, however, ignores that statement entirely and continues, "Jimmy-kun do you think you can point to where the Vice-commander's room is or are you unable to do even that? It's okay, there's no need to be ashamed-"  
"Ashamed of what?! I'm perfectly capable of navigation and his room is over there! That's the back door!"

He offers a mock salute, traipsing along with Kagura and thanking whatever Inugami there was that Sadaharu wasn't practically chewing his brains out. Shinpachi calls out an, "Oi! That's trespassing Gin-san! OI!" Which he promptly ignores, slamming open the backdoor Yamazaki had pointed to and turning to Kagura, "I'm counting on you to guard the room as I kidnap the princess, general." The yato girl replies solemnly, with a firm look set in her young features, "Leave it to me, captain!" The veins in Shinpachi's forehead strain against the tense skin as he screams at them, "Why are we criminals now?! What princess?! Are you a kidnapper?! Is Hijikata-san now a princess?! At least say prince dammit! And who the hell is the general and captain of what organisation?!"

Gintoki once again lets the words weave in and out of his ears as he jumps over the patio and strolls into the room casually, "Oh princess, prepare to be swept away by your beloved!"  
Hijikata merely arranges a stack of papers into a pile and goes back to reading another sheet with scrawled handwriting. Miffed at being ignored, he stomps his way to the desk and pointedly slams his hand against the wood, "At least _respond_ , princess!" He's met by a confused gaze too tired to fully know or care what he's saying, and a lowering of his pen onto the sheet accompanied by a quiet, "...I'm the princess?"

Gintoki sighs exasperatedly, moving behind Hijikata and resting one arm on his back, shifting the other to pull his legs over the side of the chair before picking him up by the backs of his knees and savouring the bewildered embarassment he's met by. Normally he'd be executed for doing this, but Hijikata was probably so exhausted and drowning in pain that he wouldn't do anything. And so he was right because he receives no protest as he carries Hijikata to the open backdoor and jumps through and down the patio to where Kagura stands in salute. "Captain! Where to now?"

"To tell the princess's dutiful father and brother we're taking her from their oppressive hands and need Jimmy-kun to deliver belongings later." The answer is prompt and honest, he doesn't even have to think to play around with words anymore; he feels Hijikata's cheek tip against his upper arm and swears he didn't used to be this cute. "Why am I the only one without a new position?!"  
"Then, you can be the princess's dog."  
"A dog? You've made me Hijikata-s...hime's _dog_?!"  
"Take it or leave it, Jimmy."  
Shinpachi seems thoroughly out of it at this point, muttering something along the lines of 'I don't even know where to start calling out.'

Kondo lets out a strangled cry as the door opens, and outright yells when he sees Hijikata in Gintoki's arms bridal style, the latter with a face like it was the most normal thing in the world. The bright haired yato girl salutes again, "We greet you King Gori! We'll be taking the princess till she's all healed!"  
The only thing that passes his lips is a weak, "Toshi's male though!" And Shinpachi's vein ticks harder, " _That's_ what you're worried about?"  
Kondo knows that Sougo would probably murder the lot of them on their feet for a ridiculous stunt like this with Hijikata's condition both physical and mental, and has never been more glad that the boy was probably sleeping on patrol somewhere. Gintoki grows impatient and makes a show of lifting the uniformed Vice-commander closer to his body and altering his position to dip the other's face and touch his cheek in an extravagantly theatric pose, lamenting, "How much longer do you intend to keep us apart King Gori! The princess's heart calls to me!"

Kondo really finds no words in his throat, stammering and stuttering over a confused set of syllables before glancing to Shinpachi, who looks about ready to explode, and then sighing against his papers. If anyone really could keep Hijikata safe during his recovery from the side effects, then it would be the Yorozuya and no one else. In grace of his friend's dignity he mutters, "At least call him a prince." His tone is resigned enough to convey that he isn't protesting anymore, only still confused beyond his bananas. Surprisingly, Gintoki complies, "Alrighty then, we'll be taking off with the beautiful prince now, good day Gorilla king and Jimmy-inu." And he's shimmied out the door with his raucous company before Kondo can so much as open his mouth to retort. Yamazaki shoots him a terrified look as Sougo traipses in the back door of the office, and he's thanking all his stars that he had come exactly after they left. "Kondo-san, where's Hijikata-san?"

"He's going to be staying with the Yorozuya till his overdosage wears off, Sougo."  
"Overdosage? Are they making this up for money? I sure as hell am not paying."  
Kondo shakes his head reassuringly, patting the young boy's shoulder and repeats, "No, didn't you notice? They'd been feeding him too many painkillers. I forget the effect." His brown haired friend was still unconvinced as to why the Yorozuya would come to steal away someone without the promise of money or anything free, but he couldn't state that he doubted Kondo because he really didn't, and his patrol for the day was over. Well, in his books anyway. Without a reason to go out or any way to ask for permission, he really had no way to try to venture into checking on his superior and cursed the fact that he didn't have a convenient excuse like cigarettes; just the stacks of paperwork he would have to do without dumping on Yamazaki, who already had to do part of Hijikata's.

Gintoki opens the door to the Yorozuya before setting down the other man, who'd stayed limp in his arms throughout the walk, but neither Kagura not Shinpachi had commented until they'd reached the door, following which the two had immediately run to the kitchen; Kagura to eat and Shinpachi to stop her. Hijikata's legs shiver weakly, and he isn't sure whether this is fatigue or anxiety, only that he has to slow it and act as if nothing was wrong. Gintoki watches him raise a hand to the wall and clutch the wood hard enough to turn his knuckles pink but without damaging the wood very much. It reminds him of a time past when Katsura would tug the strings of his ponytail but really just press the thread into his palms with his nails so in would hurt, but not damage. He would do that whenever Gintoki and Takasugi got into particularly bad fights, when they ended up scowling from across the classroom for weeks leaving Katsura in the middle to figure out where to go; in the end he always gravitated to Shouyou-sensei and clutched his hand until the two were talking again.

He decides maybe if he talks, about anything, Hijikata could listen to that instead of the voices in his head, "So what do you want to do, Prince?" He pauses, but something inside him clenches to remind him he isn't worth a reply for so pathetic a question, and perhaps if he talked a while more he might be given a few words as an acknowledgement. His teeth grit, it's not fair his countless experiences have to taint this with Hijikata and it's not fair the dark haired man had to encounter anything from his past. "Gintoki, can I...do you think I could just lay down somewhere?"  
"In a lazy sense? I didn't take you for the type to-" he's cut off by the expression on the other's face, and quick blinks to rid his eyes of the sheen they'd formed.

Cerulean pools turn to the floor, and Gintoki moves forward but holds his hand back, knowing full well Hijikata might not want the touch, might not want to hold his hand or even feel his proximity so he backs off, offering a silent smile that told his companion to talk whenever he felt it. "I don't want to bring a...dampening atmosphere here, I want to stay out of the way far away, lock me in the cupboard or the roof if you want", are the words he gets, but the underlying message is that he doesn't want the joyous laughter and screaming of the trio to die down because of a presence like his and Gintoki knows what that feels like, he knows what it is to not want to ruin a mood with his being there, and wants really just to tell Hijikata that he was wanted _here_ , that even if he wasn't here he was all Gintoki could think about since that day he'd entered his regular restaurant to find it not reeking of mayonnaise.

Kagura trots out of the kitchen with sukonbu in her mouth, making a curious expression when she sees them still near the doorway and coming up to them with her brow furrowed delicately, "Toshiii are you feeling sick? Do you need to throw up? Should I show you bathroom?" She raises a deathly pale hand to his forehead, standing on her tiptoes on his shoes to reach there, and receives not a 'Who the fuck are you calling Toshiii?' But a ruffle of her hair and a quiet, "No I don't need to throw up, Kagura right? I'll...I'm just leaving anyway." He moves away gently, picking her up by the waist and setting her down by Gintoki before stuffing his shaking fingers in his pockets and moving to the door.

The same panicked rush floods Gintoki and he glimpses that Kagura might have been about to hug his waist and probably scream indignantly, 'But you're sick Toshi! Let us take care of you!' But he beats her to moving, slamming the door shut and pulling Hijikata straight to his chest, plucking at the hem of his uniform jacket while his thoughts pieced to words, " _No_ , no you're staying here and here only for two weeks. In my room, I'll show you, you can smoke all you want and you don't have to talk to anyone." Kagura's eyes widen and she mutters to Shinpachi, who'd just gotten out of fixing the mess in the kitchen, that Gin-chan had never allowed her to be in his room, or even Shinpachi himself for that matter.

Hijikata has a thousand questions at that second, flashing past his flickering gaze but Gintoki tries to convey that he doesn't want to talk in front of the two younger people in the room, because they're so delicate and so young and don't deserve to toss and turn at night, visualising and being haunted by his experience-influenced panic and his unusual sudden attachment. It isn't the protective older brother kind of instinct that turns even fatherly at times, it's a clawing feeling that rips him apart if he doesn't move, if he doesn't try to shield Hijikata from thoughts he can't take away and he's never felt this way before. Not ever, it agitates him, but at the same time he's guiltily enjoying the new emotional instincts it threads through him.

"Hijikata-san would you like lunch? Have you already eaten?" Shinpachi's kind voice breaks the optical conversation they'd been having and Hijikata turns to his feet and stands up, lingering against the fabric of Gintoki's shirt for just a moment and wishing he could stay longer, "No, that's alright, I'm not too hungry at the moment, Shi...mura? Ah, I only properly know your host name Shin. I'm sorry." He offers an apologetic smile, leaning against the frame of the closed door and fully aware of glossy red eyes on his skin. Shinpachi smiles and adjusts his glasses, "Shimura is my family name, just Shinpachi is alright."  
"Shinpachi is the glasses not the person alright Toshi? The person just comes free with the glasses, okay?"  
He blinks, then raises an eyebrow and half his lip in a mock amusement as Shinpachi turns to scream at her, "The person is Shinpachi! _I'm_ Shinpachi! The glasses are just another pair of lenses on a frame dammit!"

Gintoki scratches his head and yawns, "Pattsuan, Kagura, stop arguing before Gin-san starves to death. Vice-commander-Hijikata here might not be hungry but I certainly am."  
The boy stomps off mumbling about ungrateful friends and broken glasses while Kagura announces, "I'm going to feed Sadaharu", before promptly moving inside the Yorozuya living room. Gintoki then turns to Hijikata, and feels the compulsion against his burning throat to say, "I'm sorry I touched you without asking." He doesn't mean just right now, he means all the times before and during the last few months, and he means the softer, presence confirming touches more than the punches and slashes of his sword, because those he wouldn't apologise for.

Hijikata braces one of his heels against the wall and leans his forehead forward that little bit to touch Gintoki's shoulder, which normally wouldn't be so easy because of them being the same height. He looks down at the dark locks of straight hair and has the itch in his fingers to touch it but hitches a breath to stop himself when Hijikata says, "What're ya apologising for? I should apologise for making you feel like you shouldn't've." Cold, trembling fingers reach out after Hijikata's tensed his arm four times without moving it enough, and he brushes them to the limp hand at Gintoki's side under the aqua swirls of his sleeve.

Gintoki's eyes widen momentarily, but he immediately shifts his hand to brush his palm against the other's, warm fingers just making contact enough. Hijikata shuts his eyes in embarassment, and utter inexperience because he's never done this like he was supposed to, and moves the tops of his fingers through the gaps between Gintoki's, still shivering and trembling and feeling like an idiot all at once, just leaving his fingers in that half woven state. A heavy bell slams into the silver haired man's chest, resonating in waves of something sweeter than any parfait in his body and he smiles, so genuinely that he doesn't know if it his own twisted lips that make that movement, and presses that smile against Hijikata's hair because the visible part of his cheeks and neck had flushed a rose hue of red which meant he obviously wouldn't look up. The dark haired man needed to know he was the one who'd brought that smile to his face, nobody else.

In a slow shift of his hand, Gintoki slides his fingers to lace them properly, resting his fingertips on the curves of the bones connecting his knuckles to his wrist, hoping he could warm the other's hands and maybe stop his shivering. He knew for a fact that Hijikata wasn't the kind of person who would shiver at all, so this was a side effect and he would try his damnedest to control it. Gintoki tries running his thumb along the outer edge of the other's index, slowly back and forth, silently lamenting on how the skin was so soft and smooth. He sighs in relief into Hijikata's hair when the trembling stops and even breaths fan his neck lightly. He raises his other hand, and pauses again, "Can I touch your hair?" And is unreasonably smiling wider when he receives a verbal answer of, "If y'want...I guess", instead of a half nod. Neither of them are very talkative, but Gintoki's served as a distraction for years and years, either by putting himself in the centre light to draw attention from others or by talking and singing inconsequential things he knows whoever is listening, if they even are, don't care about. His interests have always been vague to the point he can't even place quite a few, but he forced past his instinctive silence to talk about nothing for hours at least to keep the white noise as a distraction for the other person. As such, he's used to practically having a conversation with himself, getting short or no responses, saying a million things without anything in return, and something as simple as verbally responding to a question seems so unreal. He tries to let Hijikata know, wrapping his arm around the other's shoulders before pushing his fingers through the hair.

If he could go back to that time he had the universe's clock, he'd break it exactly now and live in this second forever with no regrets. But he's irritatingly human and his stomach growls, the plus side of which is the humoured scoff the other let's out, followed by Shinpachi from the living room calling out that lunch was ready and they had to go now before the starving yato ate it all. "Are y'sure you're not hungry?"  
"'t hurts to eat", Hijikata answers, swallowing with a slight tense of his fingers before nudging Gintoki slightly with his cheek and sighing cold breath over his neck before moving away, pulling their fingers apart with a short press to say it wasn't by choice, and walking in front of him into the room, jacket billowing slightly behind him.

He leans himself on the desk at the far side of the room and watches Gintoki sit down and pick up the bowl of rice, eating a few mouthfuls absently, his unreadable eyes flicking around the room as he sets the bowl down and picks up the broth in another, smaller bowl to sip. Hijikata watches with aimless attention as he does this, interspersed with his casual conversation with the other Yorozuya members, and can't even wish for a domestic lifestyle like this. The Shinsengumi was a stress filled lifestyle, the only family he had would be either trying to kill him or stalking certain sisters of certain glasses-wearing-boys, but he didn't mind this. A job in the police was honourable, and he would follow Kondo-san, now not just to defend the country as his job, but because he wanted to protect its inhabitants. This Yorozuya family, the old man who served him unhealthy amounts of mayonnaise with a warm smile, Kondo-san, the Shinsengumi soldiers, even Sougo.

He can't imagine a day when he was himself without being shot at, without having his walls repaired, without gruelling over paperwork for hours and hours, and a day on which he was greeted by morning smiles and the promise of a forever. Forever was his undoing, the promise he could never make because he knew he could die just like that and nobody deserves to lament over broken promises at his death ceremony. Hell, Hijikata can't recall a single day when he walked into the cafeteria and didn't pretend not to hear the simultaneous groan of everyone else there. That's probably way he started taking meals at his room more often. Gintoki looks up at him expectantly, and he looks back, noticing that he wasn't the only one, Kagura and Shinpachi were looking as well. "What?" He serves to ask, wondering what exactly he'd done in quietly standing by the desk, and if he was making them uncomfortable by watching them eat perhaps? Gintoki pats the space next to him on the couch, and Kagura smiles wide enough to show her teeth, while Shinpachi pushes his glasses up and voices, "You're a part of the Yorozuya as long as Gin-san believes so, just like we believe it. You don't need to stand there like a stranger, Hijikata-san, please, sit?"  
He feels the scraping scratch as he pushes away from the desk with his hands and walks to sit by the man, offering the words a, "Thank you, Shinpachi." The boy's eyes widen, clearly not used to any form of gratitude, and shakes his hands, "No no, no need to thank me."  
"Thank you, nonetheless."

Shinpachi leaves after sunset, with a smile and a bow saying, "I'll see you in the morning." Following which both Kagura and Gintoki change into their pyjamas. Hijikata is about to use that as an excuse to slip back to his room but there's a pounding on the door that Kagura meets with a, "We don't want milk!" Eliciting a nasal shout of, "Vice-Commamder! I have your clothes and bathroom stuff! Please open the door, it's Yamaza-"  
Gintoki throws open the door and grins, "Look here, Jimmy-kun has so sweetly brought Hijikata-kun's nightwear!"  
Yamazaki promptly ignores him and steps past his shoulder, holding out a small bag that he knew was Kondo's and saluting stiffly as soon as it had been taken from his hands.

"Thank you, Sagaru. You can go back now", Hijikata says, turning around after that to enter the mirrored corridor and casting a spectral glance at the woman peeking through the floorboards of the attic before crossing the hallway and entering the shower area. Kagura calls out, "Be careful with the hot water, Toshi!"

Which is followed by the sound of a door shutting outside. Hijikata leaves his dark yukata outside beside the sink, picking up his soap and other cleaning products before entering the shower area and shutting the glass door. The water cuts against his skin and, like Kagura warned, it's scalding, turning his flesh red in heat and he sighs, weakly leaning against the wall as the shower runs over him in rivulets. There's not much he can discern besides the frosted material of the door through his wet hair, so he moves his hands to the ledge he'd left his products on and then changes his mind and decides to just stand in the water for a while. To keep from passing out, he changes the taps to cold water, feeling the burn drip away from his limbs as he shifts his shoulders. The wall catches his back heavily as he collapses against it, letting the fatigue he'd been trying to ignore trickle weight into his body. Reaching out finally, he begins to wash himself of whatever dirt the day had left on him.

After seeing Kagura to bed and confirming that she would sleep like the dead till morning, Gintoki goes to brush his teeth under the haunting reminder of cavities and the dentist, which was even scarier than diabetes to him. He notices the yukata on the counter and turns absently to the door of the shower. The light allows him to see the dark silhouette of the man inside in breathless clarity, he's facing the wall to the right, giving a three fourths side view as he tilts his head back to wash his hair, hands raising above his shoulders and bent down at the elbows so his fingers rinsed the tresses. Nobody is really watching him so Gintoki can properly declare to anyone who asks that he's shamelessly staring. His eyes run down and up long, muscled shadows of the other's legs, one on its full sole and the other on just the toes, before he raises his eyes to the curve of his back and to his neck, that moves slightly as he swallows.

The toothbrush in his mouth remains forgotten until the showerhead turns off and the figure reaches up to pull the white towel from its stand, wrapping it around his waist before opening the door, just as Gintoki begins to push the brush in his mouth, looking over as if he was just now noticing he wasn't alone in the area. His eyes sweep over the muscled chest before Hijikata turns away from him, with the yukata over his shoulders as he removes the towel and picks up the obi to tie it at his waist, turning back now that he was covered. Gintoki muses that Hijikata is well muscled, but not as thickly as himself, which gives him a slimmer, leaner feel and adds another aspect to his attraction. He isn't gruff looking by any means, his jaw is a soft tilt and his neck isn't stump thick, his arms and legs are strong and muscled but lean enough that the limbs stay slim, his torso is again, muscled but not heavily or disgustingly so and Gintoki marvels not for the first time that for a guy with near demonic strength in physical fighting when provoked, he certain didn't look the heavy-weight-champion to match the part.

Perhaps that's why Gintoki's able to admit this is why Hijikata is so popular with women, his model-worthy body and attractive features, not to mention the irritatingly straight perfect hair that he wound never stop being jealous of. Hijikata brushes his teeth silently, and cleans his mouth and the brush before slipping that and his soap, shampoo and conditioner bottles back into the bag he'd failed to notice lying against the floor. He knows for a fact that the alluring smell of cherry blossoms and menthol is in his hair again, and he wants nothing more than to press his lips to it but he doesn't. He finishes brushing his teeth and cleans his mouth and brush before turning, feeling a gentle heat in his chest that Hijikata had actually stood there with his arms crossed, waiting. He watches with fascination as he doesn't pull out any secret hair drier or straightener or even serum to set his hair, but lets it dry in the stale fanned air of the Yorozuya shower room. Gintoki slides open the door to his room without pause for deliberation and is glad when Hijikata enters also without pause because he's really never been good at sharing personal space like rooms when he was sleeping or going to sleep. He reaches over to the cupboard and slides it open to pull out another futon along with sheets and pillows, laying it on the tatami besides his own, hyper aware of the scrutinising gaze that wandered to him between it's looking at everything else he had in the sparsely furnished space.

Hijikata watched as confusion flashed through the ruby eyes and somehow knew he was thinking 'how close is too close with futons?' Which elicits a sigh from his throat, and he almost smiles when he notices it isn't as stinging as it was last week. Although he may just be getting used to it. "Don't worry yourself so much, I don't care how close they are", he offers, and apparently his guess was right from the way the other's eyes widen and then lower, giving the bedding a final shift before tripping and falling with unceremonious purpose onto the one with a Justaway by the head. "Make yourself comfortable then, Vice-commander", is muffled in the pillow as Hijikata moves his hands from their crossed position and drops the bag by the sliding door of the cupboard before lowering himself onto the thick futon, gently enough that it didn't pain him too much. "You...really do look like a model, it's not fair. Can't you even sleep in some disgusting way?" Hijikata's eyebrows furrow at the whiny tone and he shifts his hand a little and moves his legs a little closer. "What's that s'posed to mean?" He really is confused, but Gintoki rambles on in the same tone after flailing away from his collapsed dead-man position, "I mean look at you! Arms all tucked up sideways and splayed near your face, legs raised at slightly different angles and your head tilted enough that it's not fetal, who do you think you are?! This is the kind of picture you'd use to create fangirls not go to sleep!"

Hijikata's rather miffed, but doesn't really know how to say he wasn't trying anything so he answers with, "This is a comfortable position to sleep in." To which Gintoki pouts and rolls on his side as well to face him, and Hijikata decides he's either drunk off the moonlight or the late hour to be babbling like this, not that he didn't appreciate the raw honesty in the words. A silence falls over them but it's not unsettling or awkward, just quiet, and Gintoki cuts through it with a quieter version of his whining tone, "It's not even fair that you're always damn attractive you stupid pretty boy. Not even just pretty, screw it, the girls all fall for you at first sight because you're hot. Or well, good looking as hell? Handsome? Fuck it." The only response he can give is blinking, trying his level best to suppress the heat flushing through his cheeks and failing very bluntly. Who even says such embarrassing things out loud, for fucks sake, Gintoki was definitely a million times bolder than he was. A fond smile crosses the other's cheeks and he reaches out his hand, which Hijikata stares at a while before reaching his own fingers to meet it and smiling as the digits interlaced with his.

"So how much does it hurt anyway?"  
"Depends on what I do."  
"Okay, talking?"  
"It's like...having to pass spiked nails through your voice box to be covered in barbed wire before moving up your throat and destroying your wind pipe and coming out as regular sound. It's getting a little better."  
"Fuckin' hell, that's even worse than I thought and I had my throat ripped a gash by an Amanto."  
He smiles, and Gintoki yawns, moving his warm fingers to practically cup Hijikata's hand and squeezing slightly before drawing back to his own body, the action mirrored by the other. It's only when he hears even breathing and occasional quiet snores and knows Gintoki's asleep that he allows himself to close his eyes, feeling the heavy burn and tears collect faster than he should've cared for, but it's been another long day just existing and he just doesn't have the strength to make it through unmarred. Soon the innocent tears turn hot and increase in number, wracking his frame in shudders and choking gasps as he bites down on the side of his hand to control any sound threatening to escape from him. His eyes widen as his breathing constricts and sputters, leaving his mouth open and shuddering to open further to get his lungs the oxygen they're heaving for. Hijikata remains in this state until the weight of his body is too great, slack against the sheet, and his eyes close to the will of rest and sleep.


	5. Somnolence

Somnolence  
Sakata Gintoki/Hijikata Toshirou

It's on the same week's Sunday that Hijikata first makes a request. It's evening, and Kagura had invited herself over to the Shimura dojo to stay over the night as soon as she caught sight of a cup of saké in Gintoki's hand. He doesn't bother correcting her, that he still wouldn't get drunk since Hijikata still hadn't lit a single cigarette. They're sitting on the couch, watching reruns of a horribly sappy romance soap that normally would've gotten an earful of swearing and absolute horror at the cheesy lines from the dark haired man, but Gintoki doesn't pressure him to do more than sit as he is.

He's discovered, in this week so far, that Hijikata had a tendency to wash his face whenever he got particularly agitated, which his companion could tell by the small signs like the biting of his lip and breathing out as if it were smoke he was exhaling. "Yorozuya, do you think I could...ah, could I ask for some more paperwork? I could get Sagaru to bring it over like he does my clothes if you don't want me to leave", Hijikata doesn't make eye contact, only presses the tips of his fingers together as he says this. It's a marvel how the man would want to do something as irritating as paperwork, just slaving away at reading useless reports for hours on end, half of which were probably just demonic anpan curses.

Gintoki goes on a whim and sidles closer, draping an arm around the other's shoulders to sound like a friendly advisor instead of a suspicious detective when he asks, "But why would you want to do that? You've got Gin-san here, Kagura too, and even Shinpachi for your otaku and megane needs. Regretfully he isn't the smart or cool part of that trope but glasses is practically his soul by now-"  
"Please", he's cut off. Hijikata doesn't flinch away from his arm or avoid his gaze, looking fearlessly at him. Hell he knew if the guy started pleading, Gintoki would probably get the damn paperwork himself while walking on his hands with a unicycle for entertainment. Yeah, he'd never seen Hijikata plead.

At his searching gaze, another drawn out breath is released before he admits, "I need something to focus on, preferably boring and strenuous." But Gintoki doesn't move, only shifts closer till his alcohol scented breath is definitely hitting the other's cheeks but he receives no push still, only the even quieter addition of, "I can't sleep." It's like the lighting in the room has shifted because suddenly he's able to see the slightly darker rims of the other's eyes, the way he's blinking more because of how tired he was, the slump in his shoulders that's a fraction of an inch away from his normal posture. Something was horribly wrong about his sleeping pattern, obviously, and again, Gintoki _didn't fucking notice._

He feels like a dunce for not noticing, but then suggests something even more ridiculous as a cure, "Why not take you to the red light streets? Kabuki is the red light district, and I have people who would give great recommendations down in Yoshiwara. If you're tired out it could help."  
"It doesn't help if I'm tired, I've tried jogging before. And no thank you, I'm not interested in...red light shops."  
It's a vague reminder to a conversation he's had with Sougo but he was piss drunk and it was too late for him to register the words fully. Something about not being pleasured or pleasuring himself that Gintoki had dubbed a load of bullshit, well, until he'd heard it just now from the man himself. Or, heard it implied but the question was too personal. Hijikata's still staring at him, and Gintoki only downs his cup and watches as Hijikata stands when he places it on the table, picking it and the bottle up and going to the kitchen wordlessly.

He comes back with a small glass of something and stands by the couch on which Gintoki is sat blinking up dumbly. "It's strawberry milk, it'll lower how drunk you are and lessen the hangover", Hijikata holds out the glass to him and Gintoki plucks it from his fingers incredulously, before pulling him down and leaning into his shoulder with a mumbled thank you and a smile. Not in his lifetime had anyone given this much shit about him since Shouyou, sure people cared about him and made sure he knew it but it wasn't like this, they didn't understand him like this. Hijikata mumbles something in his wavy hair by way of a response and Gintoki downs the milk as well, relishing the sweet strawberry taste and the sugar rush heading through his body. He's almost skipping behind Hijikata to brush his teeth. _Skipping._

They've both showered and they brush quickly, proceeding back to the sitting room, where Gintoki drapes himself bodily over one of the couches and watches the other move wordlessly to the other couch, sitting with his legs and arms both crossed and biting his lip enough that he probably suspects it wouldn't be noticed. He desperately wants the man's body heat, or rather lack thereof and cooling feel near him without a single idea of how to obtain that since he was actually the one who'd idiotically decided to lie down. That leads him to make the next best decision, "Uwah, look at the time! Hijikata-kun, shouldn't we go sleep too?"

Hijikata's eyes turn to him, blank but acknowledging, and he stands and picks up the empty cup of milk, going to the kitchen to wash it while Gintoki sets up the futons in his room. As a test, he decides to pull the two exactly together so they almost resemble a huge bed, hoping maybe that would get a jolt out of Hijikata. But the man in question enters the room as casual as before, and lowers himself onto his futon even more casually, as if he didn't even notice anything was wrong. Suddenly Gintoki felt like he had idiotically humiliated himself, but says nothing, if Hijikata was alright with this then maybe he'd made a misjudgment thinking this would get a reaction, still he had to ask, "Hijikata-kun, are you alright with the futons being this close?"

The other doesn't even look up as Gintoki lowers himself onto his own bed, "'s fine with me." After those words, he falls silent in the darkness of the house, leaving the silver-haired man to determine if he was actually asleep or just quiet, since he couldn't even see his face. Still, he could see the rise and fall of his shoulders and his own breath evened to match it, but every time he closed his eyes they would open almost of their own will to stare at the back of the Shinsengumi vice commander. The ticking of the Justaway continued through the hours, as he tried to drink in every detail of this exact moment and hour. Everything was silent, outside was dark, nobody was screaming behind him for rent or compensation or fine, and he wasn't alone this time. Normally, at times like this he'd give up his pride to watch children's cartoons and pass the time so he wouldn't be enveloped in the pressing emptiness that brought to life vivid nightmares, no, memories and played things to the backs of his eyes too fast but too slow, words and flashes of silver speeding through his vision but the hot sting of tears still raw to his touch. _Normally._

He isn't sure if this is normal anymore, because he's too friendly with Hijikata and he's too close but maybe that was because they were similar? Because he could protect himself? Because Gintoki wanted to protect him? Not a single nightmare had jolted his frame in the hours since he'd begun sleeping in the same room as him, and he isn't sure if he's offering or receiving comfort. Somehow, today, he can't sleep. It's a vague sense in his vague mind, like floating pinpricks of light in a pleasant countryside river, but he can't sleep. It's not so much his not being tired, that hadn't stopped him before, but the feeling of the aura he got from Hijikata, like that pleasant countryside river was being fed by drops of thick red blood that reflected the sun to look like rubies in the water.

Gintoki decides he's morbid as hell, not for the first time, and decides not to care, not even for the second time. The analogy is perfect to him. The hours pass on in feigned darkness as he waits for his body to adjust its clock so he can sleep already, regretting his choice of a four hour afternoon nap. The Justaway tells him it's 3 am when he hears it first. A shuddering, gasping cough so soft he doesn't know if he's really heard it. He almost writes it off as imagination but Hijikata's shoulders he'd been tracing outlines of were shaking slightly. In the dead silence of the night he's able to hear the drop against the pillow; he wouldn't have been able to had it not been so quiet.

He almost believes the dark haired man is having a nightmare, almost wakes him up to ask what and if he was okay, but when Hijikata raises his hand to his mouth that Gintoki can't see, it hits him that he's _awake_. A strangled, desolate sound rips the other man's throat and dissolves into the skin of his wrist, the remnants of its resonance echoing to the marrow of Gintoki's bones, fuelling a desire to reach out and say something but he's frozen. He stays wordless, motionless, for so long he goes stiff and his eyes stay wide, lips begging him to form a word but not a thing gets past his throat. He wills his body to move, something, even a little, _anything_ , but it _refuses_. It refuses after it's cooperated with him to fight insanely strong people while half dead, it refuses when it has agreed to push the limits of even being human at times, it refuses now in an empty room on a bed too far to reach Hijikata.

He continues screaming at his mind, and the choked sounds and soft drops followed by sheets rustling almost sound natural but it's in a surreal quality to Gintoki's eyes, the man' practically dying, collapsing, falling to pieces in front of his useless carcass of a body that refuses to _move dammit_. His limbs only work again when he's tipped over the edge of desperation, when he hears the horrifying, thick sound of flesh ripped by teeth, and his mind knows Hijikata is keeping quiet for him, is so close to screaming in agony but instead bites his own skin through and _fuck_ , he's going to smash the bones of his hand. Was this everyday? Had he slept through it? Did Hijikata wait for him to fall asleep? His entire frame stiffens, but it moves and practically lurches towards Hijikata, stopping at his hair and ruffling it with a soft breath. He wants to move forward, hug him, move back, leave him alone, comfort him, not disturb him, a jumble of this and that where it should be either or.

He's never seen the vice-commander plead, yes, but the expression of a profile partially obscured by dark bangs with tear streaked cheeks and eyes clenched shut is the closest thing he's ever seen to that, and maybe he was being selfish but he wanted to hold Hijikata, hold him close and give him the physical comfort he knows neither of them have had. He's never heard it from the man himself so he could be wrong but his language and responses to physical contact say he isn't familiar with it being comforting. Gintoki's voice is muffled by sleep and the thick air around him, as he doesn't try to stop his gasping, "Hijikata?"

He receives no response, only a slight freeze and quieting of his crying, dark liquid seeping past the wound only to have the owner tilt his hand so it flowed without touching anything into his mouth. Gintoki knew it was probably disgusting, slightly sweet and cutting and starched with an aftertaste of metal. He feels something clog in a part of his chest he was sure wasn't meant to do more than function instead of collapsing on him, so he tries again by a different name, "Toshirou?"

He breaths the syllables softly, tasting them as if the word is his newest strawberry parfait, but with a bated anxiousness that came with the question of _what if he wasn't supposed to say that name?_ At this Hijikata's eyes shoot open, his head turns, and his focus settles on him and him alone. He offers what he hopes is a comforting smile as a start to helping the vice commander, but the man looks horrified and jumps back and out of the futon, scrambling till he reaches his cupboards and the frame wracks as his back rams against it. " _Gintoki_ ", the voice is ghostly, conveying its meaning of pleading screaming cries of _no, no you weren't supposed to be awake and you weren't supposed to hear or-_

" _Toshirou_ ", he calls back into the silence, the words sounding like an anchor weight infused with his hope that Hijikata would be okay. Gintoki creeps closer, sliding against the floorboards until he's in front of the other, not daring to touch him in any way, keeping his eyes fixed on the features of his face for any emotion he could read. Gintoki knows by experience that there are phases to breakdowns, and that one of these phases is in which you become horribly vulnerable and open, willing to tell everything to anyone who asks, and usually this is only the first time a person breaks down. Subsequently, this phase only calls to be held. He also knows that following this phase is a putrid loathing to do anything for anyone, including himself because why should he? Was anyone aware to his crashing and burning soul? Of course not. Now he knows the source of Hijikata's bitter mornings till he's had his coffee.

He shouldn't be happy to have caught Hijikata in this phase where he isn't bitter yet, but vaguely he is because even if it's him, somebody needed to support this man and pull him together and hold him while he cried, admire him while he laughed. There isn't much he can do by way of pretending he hadn't found him like this, because he's already too deep in a different direction because of his own sleep-deprived worry. The last thing he'd wanted to do when he'd met the Shinsengumi vice commander was to worry about him. On that lowly rooftop, seeking revenge for a commander he had no knowledge about, all he had wanted was to be free of the man's incessant demands for a fight, to finish his damn job and get paid, maybe grab a parfait on his way home. Nothing, apparently, ever goes in his way because place after place and time after time he began running frustratedly head first into the same dark haired nicotine addict, had discovered more odd quirks than he cared to know, and eventually, begrudgingly, begun to care for him.

Easy to accept was the last thing it was, he'd rebelled against the thought for too long, tossing and turning and cursing at the policeman and his piercing blue eyes, but accept it he did. He was just as much a part of Gintoki's life as Gintoki was of his, the insults were more a habit now, a riling of spent agitation in playful spirit, nothing of a heavy meaning as much as that was impossible to garner from looking at them. Hijikata is still looking falteringly at him, not moving, still shuddering and heaving like an impossible weight is settled on his chest, but he looks vulnerable. There are a thousand expressions Gintoki has seen on this man but this still knocks his breath out. He looks _scared_ and practically _at his mercy_ , which in itself should not be, because this was the man who carried the flaunting title of the Demon Vice Commander of the Shinsengumi, yet nowhere in his life had Gintoki seen something so resembling an angel with broken wings. And Gintoki has seen _an actual dead angel_ in a TV screen who ripped her own wings off.  
"Hiji-", he pauses, that name isn't right, "Toshirou, do you want to come here?" His arms open slowly, invitingly, laying bare all his intentions with a clear conscience and a concerned smile.

Hijikata doesn't respond, his breaths are shallower and slower now, as if he's afraid to disturb the air Gintoki has created, but he keeps his arms open, with full intention to wait out the answer. The tensed shoulders of the other slump down, his back sinks a few inches against the cupboard, his hand props him up until he's no longer against the fabric at all and Gintoki smiles, knows his eyes soften in fondness. Hijikata resigns against his ego, visibly deflates in acceptance, attempts to even his halting breaths before giving up vainly and steeling his nerves. Legs thrown up in front of him while he was kicking back, shift to his side to brace him on his knees in a half crouch, muscles flexing reflexively, his eyes shade briefly in a final bout of defensiveness that's thrown off quickly, and he moves forward slightly, slowly, but it's enough to twist Gintoki's chest because its one thing to offer comfort and entirely another to be this _accepted_ , this _trusted_ by someone.

Hijikata stops when he touches his knee but that's invitation enough for the Yorozuya, who crosses the short gap and brings him into an embrace with arms that are finally listening to his will. He doesn't drape his arms around the man or loosely lay them about his shoulders or his hips, though he'd love if he had the self control for something like that, he simply isn't able to do less than the clutching pleading strain that he is, holding on tightly to the other to a point where he isn't sure anymore who's comforting whom. His left arm is pressed heavily at the elbow into the jutting bone of Hijikata's hip, the palm clutching at the small of his back a ways off from his right hand that is strung over the man's shoulder to rest between his shoulder blades. This is a proximity on a level of intimacy he's never had before, sure he's fucked people but it never felt intimate and sure he's hugged people but never like this, never this heavy and bodily and possessively. Hijikata Toshirou is a beautiful man, can you honestly blame Gintoki for wanting him to himself?

-

If there were a comparison to describe what this hold felt like, then the instantaneous answer would be like chains. However, Gintoki's embrace on him is nothing like Kondo and Sougo's tearful wrench, is nothing like Mitsuba's gentle touch of affectionate comfort, it's unique and it's demanding. Not demanding in a way he's uncomfortable with, Gintoki is simply asking for proof that he wasn't clutching onto a corpse again, that he wasn't desperately yanking a blood-soaked body closer to his chest, and Hijikata's breath curls over his neck in a confirmation, giving the exact proof he needs. The hold on him doesn't loosen, and though initially he'd merely had the wind knocked out of his lungs and wished for it back, he realises that the other man is worry-stricken, that this midnight paranoia was induced by him and Gintoki didn't have to hold him, didn't have to step closer and utter his name fearlessly in the dark in a way nobody but Mitsuba had ever called him, his name was Hijikata, demon vice commander, Shinsengumi dog, Mayora 13, but never so intimately had it been _Toshirou_ across the Yorozuya's lips and that in itself caves a part of him he didn't know had been aching amidst everything else.

He isn't uncomfortable anymore with leaning against Gintoki's shoulder in silent acceptance. Most moments in days past he'd spent dreaming of a sleep so deep he wouldn't feel the rusted scrape to anything he moved, but even when he caught sleep it was light and fleeting and too short by fear. Not only did he wake up as early as the Shinsengumi's clock, he forced himself out sooner so that he'd be decently somber by the time Shinpachi came pounding at the door with wake up calls or the robot maid from downstairs blasted the door down with a tuned lilt to her threat for rent. Gintoki never bothered waking up when Shinpachi and Kagura did, Hijikata had observed this multiple times, and it was something near hilarious the methods the man used to get out of bed. Oh, if only. Today, he doesn't wish to be drowning, he doesn't beg to be asleep, he prays in his heart with fervour that he'll be able to feel these arms around him again.

The air in the room is chokingly still, lifeless if not for Hijikata's shaky breaths and Gintoki's shuddering gasps of relief. He links his arms around the fair-haired man and leans closer, feeling the arms around him tighten by way of a response. They sit in silent comfort, and neither are fully aware of how much time has passed because the desire not to move permeates everything else. Gintoki moves his lips in soundless words against Hijikata's jaw, smoothing out his fingers against the fabric of his shirt as he does so. It feels like ripples of warmth splay out across his skin from that point and though he tries, he can't control the flush that spreads across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose.

Gintoki lets out a soft, cheerful sounding chuckle and lets the sound reverberate against Hijikata's skin as he nuzzles into his cheek. He can feel the blush darken under his skin and grins a little, fingers moving to pull Hijikata's arms down and said man letting him, albeit confused as he did. He feels the other's slightly bigger hands cup the backs of his and hold them together. He doesn't have to speak for it to be understood he's suggesting they go back to sleep. Warmer than he probably had been in too long, he follows compliantly and doesn't bother glaring when the grip on his hands doesn't loosen until they've both settled down and are close enough that he knows the other will wake up if he so much as coughs. He doesn't plan on moving anyway, and falls asleep pleasantly with the skin of his jaw remembering fiercely the brand of Gintoki's lips and the voiceless statement:

 _"Thank you for accepting me."_


	6. Lullaby

Lullaby  
Sakata Gintoki/Hijikata Toshirou

The internal clock of the Shinsengumi Vice-commander never chipped hours, and he was thankful that he continued to wake up at that time; he didn't know what Shinpachi would say if he saw Gintoki and himself curled around each other evidently comfortable through the late hours. Gintoki, however, frowns a bit more in his sleep when Hijikata gets up and leaves, miffed at the emptiness in his arms but uncomplaining nonetheless. They have their own routines, getting up at different times, eating different things, that is if Hijikata remembered to eat or not, speaking in different tones and going about their own lives under the same roof. Just that way, Shinpachi and Kagura have their own routines as well, concerts, meeting up with friends, going out for a walk or to check on someone, and the entire place reeks of freelance.

Hijikata supposes that's what the Yorozuya do, obviously, they're freelancers with no fixed job so their work could encompass anything, from cutting down a black market organisation to picking a kitten from the twisted branches of the tree it'd clambered up to. On some days, Hijikata would accompany them to whatever job they were doing, casual clothes and without cigarette, though Gintoki knew he kept a few packets and a lighter anyway. He'd contemplated buying another mayonnaise-bottle-shaped lighter for the man, but decided against it since it would be purposeless. Hijikata spends his hours completing, checking and rechecking his paperwork until Yamazaki stops by with a new bunch that seems to be getting lighter every time. None of the Yorozuya members disturb him, they even keep their volume at a minimal when they notice the concentrated furrow of his brow.

Even so, one tiresome day that had been loaded with work on both sides saw them collapse into the futons and each other's lifeless limbs too much later than normally, they were indeed seen. It wasn't quite as scandalous a position as Hijikata himself had caught them in once as he woke, but it was scandalous nonetheless, and possibly even incriminating depending on how extreme of a closet fujiyoshi had opened the door. The stunned silence was thick and dank, Hijikata had been jolted the minute he'd heard the door slam open and rattle against the hinges but he found himself immobile at the same time. If it were known that he was awake and allowing this, it'd probably cause a bigger fuss than if he just pretended to be asleep.

Gintoki, however, insisted at this moment to cuddle closer to the Vice-Commander, sliding his hand up from his lower back slightly and pressing closer. Hijikata was so so grateful that his cheek was pressed into Gintoki's chest, shallow breaths tickling the bunched cloth. The Yorozuya had wrapped a leg around both of Hijikata's and tangled them tightly, and here the bastard was, sound asleep and practically unconscious as the dark haired man flushed at the breath against his hair and Shinpachi stood like a haunted statue at the door to the room in a state of thorough shock. "Shinpachi, what's going on? Did your marbles roll away? Did your brain fall down again? I can pick it up for you Shinpachi, just as- Gin-chan! Toshi!" Kagura's jaw dropped as well, and though he heard the clack of her jaw, Hijikata couldn't see her face and had no idea what she looked like at the moment. It probably wasn't remotely attractive. As the two stunned teens stood unmoving, Hijikata prayed for an excuse to get up, anything at all would do.

The excuse comes to him in the form of Gintoki himself, who shifts and plays with the ends of Hijikata's hair before yawning, "You really did Gin-san a favour not upping and leaving in the middle of the night, Hijikata-kun."  
"8:30 in the morning isn't night", Hijikata mumbles, pretending its only muffled in the man's shirt and not by his embarassment. Gintoki winds his limbs more comfortably and rubs his eyes with a mock frown, "Of course it is! Anything before 11 is the middle of the night to me. Even men need beauty sleep you know? Gin-san is trying to maintain his natural good looks don't you understand?"  
Hijikata doesn't even respond, he's still reeling under the repeating though of _'They caught us they caught us they saw us they caught us'_ , and Gintoki raises an eyebrow before leaning closer to press his forehead against Hijikata's, the latter swearing up and down he could see Shinpachi and Kagura turning ghost white and that colour rushing to his face.

"You look like you have a fever but I can't feel anything, is your fever temperature different Hijikata-kun? Should I go borrow a thermometer from the old hag?" Hijikata refuses persistently to answer as Gintoki brings his fingers up to splay against his cheek and two fingers of the other hand to touch the pulse at his neck.  
"Gin-san isn't a doctor so maybe I should ask Pattsuan. Speaking of which where is that boy?" At this he gives a final squeeze and allows the mortified Hijikata to flop back onto the covers while he stands, raising his voice, "Pattsuan! Kagura! Oi do either of you kno- oh well if you're right there say so sooner, don't make me scream."

It's a miracle how he doesn't understand why they're both practically ice statues at his point. "What? What is it? Do I have something in my hair? Hijikata-kun can you check my ha-"  
"Your hair is fine natural perm, they...'ve been here a while."  
"Oh", Gintoki says dismissively, as if he's being told the daily news. Hijikata sighs quietly and then he glances back at the other two members of the Yorozuya. Suddenly they spring up, rushing to their leader as Kagura throws herself on him bodily lamenting, "Gin-chan! Why didn't you tell us you were being all romantic with Toshi? Did you think we'd be mad? Gin-chan you need to tell us these things we're family!"  
Added to by Shinpachi's stern lecture of, "Next time make sure not to forget to mention something so important. Neither of us will judge you at this point Gin-san, so you should learn to be more open as well. Hijikata-san, you too, why haven't you said anything?"  
Then Gintoki understands what they've perceived of the situation and while the breath is being squeezed out of him he gasps, _"Oh."_

When they finally let go and stand looking expectant for an explanation, Gintoki looses a fib, "Shinpachi-kun, Kagura-chan, you misunderstood. The truth is Gin-san-"  
Hijikata cuts him off to twist whatever lie that was going to be, "-Is a cuddle bug in his sleep."  
The low chorus of _'ohhh'_ confirms that they did actually believe him, because honestly with that personality it was nothing out of place. "Oh well then Toshi, tell me if you get annoyed okay? If Gin-chan squeezes too hard or kicks you in his sleep tell me okay? I can give you my room and sleep here for you."  
He can't suppress a half smile as he ruffles her hair with a thank you and goes out of the room past them to brush his teeth. He writes it off as his imagination that both younger residents of the Yorozuya looked disappointed by the truth of the situation.

There's an odd feeling in his gut, like four heavy screws were embedded in him, two at either side just above his hips and the other two on either side below his upper abdominal muscles and he's being pinned by them, carrying them against gravity when he stands and lesser so when he sits as if they're trying to pull down and only settling when he lies down and they weight him to the surface. After he's freshened up enough to look ready for work, though he isn't going anywhere, he goes back to the living room where sure enough the natural perm is scratching his head, toothbrush sticking oddly out his mouth. With a brief roll of the eyes he drops himself next to the other, since the excess space had been an obvious invitation. Gintoki grins at him around the brush and leans back against his shoulder as he watches the weather, tugging Hijikata's free arm half around his waist. Deciding to humour him, Hijikata just tightens his arm as a response and settles to the drone of the weather woman and her ridiculous horoscopes. His eyes widen when he realises he's thought that he wouldn't mind more mornings like this. He cannot be allowed to become lazy and accepting, there was work to be done and he still has his job if nothing else.

Between his mulling thoughts, Shinpachi brings out a breakfast that's quite lavish for the Yorozuya considering they were being paid by the Shinsengumi to take care of Hijikata. He wonders if this is why Gintoki had decided to bring him here, but decides against it when he watches Gintoki throw his brush into a bucket and gargle with water from a glass before picking up his bowl as if it were even less interesting than his toothbrush. He says a cursory 'thanks for the food' before beginning to eat without a single care in the world, eyes glued to the weather lady. Kagura and Shinpachi are still looking at them with suspicious eyes what with their position but they don't comment on it.

With Hijikata's terrible luck, just as Gintoki drops some rice on the hand wrapped around him, Yamazaki slam open the door fully ready to make a report and salutes stiffly, exactly in time to see the perm head bring Hijikata's pale hand to his lips and lick off the rice. Of course Yamazaki becomes a blushing, stuttering mess and Shinpachi looks like he's just been outwitted. Kagura, however, blinks stupidly at them as if she has no idea what's so surprising. It's blatantly obvious why Yamazaki was ridiculously confused but Hijikata ignores that, "Sagaru, you're here to report?"  
Gintoki whines in addition, "Then report already goddammit, and go away, you're disturbing my weather commercial and my breakfast."  
"B-but Hijikata-san you're not going to punish him? He- he just- but what-"

"I'll get up and kick you out if you don't have anything important to say!"

Gintoki mock snarles, but it's enough to scare the simple spy. Once his throat is clear he announces the report with almost no inserts of the word anpan in his sentences, and then produces fresh clothes and a meagre pile of reports. "Is crime slow?"  
"N-no sir, why do you ask Hijikata-san, uh, sir?"  
"I've been getting less and less work."  
"Musta been the gorilla eh, Hijikata-kun, don't bother Jimmy here with it, he probably feels ashamed to say it out loud yknow?"  
"I don't need to hear that from you, damn BL character freeloading perm head!" Yamazaki screams indignantly.

Apparently the only thing Hijikata wants to comment on is, "BL character?"  
Shinpachi flushes red and adjusts his glasses, "You don't want to know Hijikata-san. You're better off not knowing actually, you're our show's only clean character who doesn't make inappropriate jokes."  
Gintoki scratches his head, "Okay you made your report and gave him a change of clothes and paperwork now can you leave already, you've given Gin-san a headache Jimmy-kun."

Yamazaki makes an annoyed huff that's probably more hostile than it should be and more remnant of Mountain Zaki than he should be in Hijikata's presence, but leaves nonetheless. Gintoki just laces his fingers with the other's, sets the bowl down and picks up the latest JUMP from the table, flipping off the television much to Kagura's apparent chagrin. Though Hijikata enjoys this life in its own way, this isn't his life and he won't say it but he does want to go back, so at least then the pain will only be his mentality not some crazy wrongly administered drug, he just wants this to be done with. Everything he does is a riveting ache of painful stabs that jar him far more than they should and far more than he can handle; it's all he can do to remain upright and functioning at this point past the ridiculous effects of this 'medicine'.

He doesn't give it enough thought to let the influence run ropes through his brain like Kubinashi's red threads and just hopes it wouldn't rush over in a wolfish stream as Ryuji's devouring Garo. The thing he's probably most guilty about is feeling like he wants things to stay this way with Gintoki, despite knowing its only because he's unwell, and he's condemned himself a thousand times for it but a moment is too long and he's caught up again. Gintoki's a heavy tide, a glittering light, a guiding star, he's someone who people follow and listen to and love, just because of who he is and how he acts at his own free pace sweeping everyone and anyone along with him unintentionally. That knowledge does nothing to calm his restless nerves, and he doesn't have to check to be aware of his nervously rising pulse. He wants to be able to say he would drag this on as long as possible, be sick for longer, keep himself here more, but he'd be lying if he did. He knows full well he'd take the first chance he gets to go back and bury himself in work until he's able to be as comprehensive a Hijikata as is considered normal.

The two weeks are up too soon, he hasn't gotten enough time to know that they are and doesn't notice being held back longer, wishes Gintoki would hold him closer during the nights but tries not to be close, he knows it's not his place. Gintoki is warm, inviting, comfortable, eyes glittering and smile shimmering, but it's not his or even remotely so, he'll be gone soon and the natural perm would move on as if a swirl had been removed from his yukata; indifferent. He forces himself to believe all this is a culmination of camaraderie, that he's only doing this because they were something of friends and nothing of any form of closeness.

He doesn't know if he can comprehend that, doesn't think it's possible, doesn't believe it's probable. He walks out on the final day after a sleepy hug and a sleepier smile in the morning, thanks Gintoki and tells him to thank the others, and tries to give his own most welcoming smile since it'll probably be the last of this caliber they share. He knows without seeing that the Yorozuya had gone back to sleep, and though the drug has worn off his footsteps feel heavy and his vision is blurry. His mind is made up that nobody was tolerant enough to take his shit anymore, that if he stays in his imbalance anymore there will be consequences to his work, questions to his identity and he may even be asked to take leave to see a mental doctor; something he is averse to both _because_ of work and because he doesn't want a stranger poking around his business. His solution is simple. If he can pull himself together just enough to act the bare minimum of the Hijikata Toshirou that everybody dismissed, any attention he may have caught would sputter and die out faster than a candle in a thunderstorm. He doesn't ask if it's raining when he enters the Shinsengumi barracks.


End file.
